Author: MagicJMS

A middle-aged, unassuming corporate Human Resources nerd who grew up collecting comic books and playing role-playing games. I wrote a weekly column for the first five years of magicthegathering.com and have fourteen unfinished novels (and counting).

Age of Wonders: Oakton

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying5 Comments

Earlier this week, I set the stage, outlining the setting of my homebrewed solo campaign, which I’m dubbing Age of Wonders. Today it’s time to dive into the core location for my adventures, the bustling town of Oakton.

For today only, I’m gently placing my Crusaders rulebook to the side in favor of a minigame and tool that I’ve been eager to try. Pendulum is a worldbuilding assistant from one of my all-time favorite creators, Jon from Tale of the Manticore. Jon’s podcast is the reason that I first became interested in solo roleplaying, and he has long been the inspiration for me combining my solo play with fiction writing. It’s a thrill to pick up my favorite of his various Drivethrurpg creations and give it a spin.

Pendulum is a settlement builder, a way of working through the history and society of any settlement in a fantasy region, beginning at its emergence as a hamlet all the way through however large you want to make it, up to a large city. I’ll loosely show you how it works by creating Oakton, the central location in which Age of Wonders will begin. At each stage, I flip a coin to determine whether Law or Chaos rules that stage, with a narrative table in Pendulum guiding me through prompts for what happens. As you’ll see from the output below, it’s a lengthy process (Jon says it takes 6-9 hours to complete each settlement, which sounds right to me), but suuuuuuper satisfying.

Do I need this much detail on Oakton’s history before jumping into an adventure? Absolutely not. But I’m appreciative for the depth this sort of tool invites me to create, and it jumpstarts my brain on several issues in the setting that will make the characters more textured and interesting.

Here we go!

The Beginnings of Oakton

Stage 1: Law. Year 1. Ruler: Pera Luz (age 35). Population 55.

Oakton began as a collection of fishing families who arrived from ships fleeing Mesca, a continent conquered by a dragon (it was, after all, the Age of Wyrms) across the sea. They chose a location set away from the immediate coast, with access to food, water, and timber, on the eastern shore of a large, unoccupied bay, with an inland lake and wetlands stretching to the east and up into forested hills. They were led by Pera Luz, a capable warrior and bull of a woman, leader of the expedition.

The most distinct feature of the landscape was a gargantuan oak tree, inland from the bay and on the lake’s shore, the largest tree that any inhabitant had seen in their lifetime (truly like a tree given a growth potion… over 400’ tall).

Stage 2: Chaos. Year 11. Ruler: Anton Luz (age 26). Population 70.

Ten years after establishing a lakeside home, under the far reach of the mighty oak, Pera died to a wild, monstrous beast while exploring the countryside. Her four sons began infighting over who would take over the hamlet. After a brutal and bloody conflict, the eldest son Anton took the reins, with his youngest brother supporting him, another brother dead, and the last fled east*. It is Anton who dubbed the settlement Oaktown.

*This brother, Sente, miraculously survived the wilds and found sanctuary in a distant township. There he gained some renown as a fighter and became leader of the town’s militia. Any mistrust that easterners have for Oakton likely originated from Sente and his bitterness towards his brothers.

Stage 3: Law. Year 16. Ruler: Anton Luz (age 31). Population 85.

Pera’s death emphasized the danger of the surrounding wildlife, and Anton feared that other sailors may arrive from their homeland to claim their fledgling settlement. Thus the hamlet began construction of stone walls to replace the wooden palisades. By the 16th year, Oaktown had a proper, fortified defense against threats from both the land and sea. Beyond the inner keep walls, a new palisade stretched wide around the farmland and included the massive oak, which the townsfolk had begun to view as divine, a remnant of a time when gods roamed the land in the Time of Immortals.

Stage 4: Chaos. Year 36. Ruler: Anton Luz (age 51). Population 100.

Disparate ships did arrive, small pockets of refugees, but none threatening to conquer the young hamlet. During this time, the settlement faced two setbacks: First, sickness ran rampant through Oaktown, due in large part to dumping sewage into the lake. Many people died, negating any population growth from the incoming refugees and forcing the town to rethink its waste disposal. Second, an attempt to build simple roads east and south through the countryside was met with disaster as monsters feasted on anyone venturing too far beyond the palisades. Reluctantly, Anton called a halt to the roads project, declaring that the hamlet would stay insular. Feeling like a failure, he retreated to the inner keep, increasingly gone from public view. When he died, it took two days for his servants and family to realize it.

Stage 5: Chaos. Year 38. Ruler: Mara Luz (age 36). Population 90.

Anton’s sole remaining heir, his son, fell ill to the same disease that had claimed so many other residents, and died within days of his father. After a period of acute confusion, the town councilmembers decided to elect the wife of Anton’s youngest brother (who had died several years before) to lead them. Mara Luz, a black-skinned woman of the Kalee nation far south of Oaktown, became the subject of mistrust and racism by the families from the original settlers, sparking violence and unease throughout Oaktown.

Mara kept her seat of power because she was (much to her detractors’ dismay) a warrior of an ancient order and skilled with a blade. What no one knew until much later was that she had also been sent by the Kalee queen to bring Oaktown under rule because the queen saw the location as an ideal one where she might establish a trade port. Her marriage to the youngest Luz had been true love, though, and had delayed her sending word back to the queen.

Stage 6: Chaos. Year 43. Ruler: Mara Alaa (age 41). Population 65.

For the next five years, Oaktown was a nest of tension and inner turmoil, with Mara ruling with an iron fist. When an armored militia from the south arrived to formally incorporate the hamlet, many of its residents resisted even as Mara threw open the walled gates. After a brief and bloody conflict and five days of public execution (called The Hanging Days, still commemorated today), the settlement began flying banners for Queen Karpenta of the nation of Kalee. Mara abandoned her married name of Luz, reclaimed her birth name of Alaa, and continued to oversee the town.

It is believed that it was this period of rule where the town’s name began to change, as the Kaleens pronounced “town” as “ton.”

Stage 7: Law. Year 63. Ruler: Mara Alaa (age 61). Population 150.

With the rule of law established, Mara began work on the project her queen had demanded: transforming the bayside shoreline into a trade port. The construction went quickly, but the settlement was not near enough existing trade routes or other population centers to flourish. Still, a steady influx of oversea travelers and visitors from both the south and east grew the once-struggling hamlet into a village of enough residents to expand the palisade wall further. Warrior bands helped farmers and hunters beyond the walls survive against the dangerous wilds.

Stage 8: Chaos. Year 83. Ruler: Mara Alaa (age 81). Population 200.

Beginning to appear on Kaleen maps (as Oakton), the settlement began to be the target of pirates. For nearly fifteen years, Mara oversaw the village’s defense against marauders, all the while sending messages to her queen for aid. Kalee was going through a change in its monarchy with Queen Karpenta’s death, however, and could not be bothered to send ships or soldiers to defend a backwater coastal village. Oakton was left to protect itself, and did so through several bloody conflicts. It is said the heart of Oakton was forged in these years, and why its people are so defiant and fierce. If one positive can be said about this time, it is that the populace set aside their various racial infighting against a common enemy.

Stage 9: Chaos. Year 88. Ruler: Marter Moon (age unknown). Population 160.

In a particularly bloody year, an elderly Mara Alaa and her household guard were killed by invading pirates, and Oakton was claimed by Captain Marter Moon, aka Captain Bloodmoon. Moon was able to keep a grip on the now lawless settlement for five years before he was murdered in his bed by a prostitute. For the better part of a year, Oakton was a ruler-less den of scoundrels and mercenaries, ignored by Kalee’s new queen.

Stage 10: Chaos. Year 89. Ruler: Chanu Karpa (age 23). Population 150.

A sea serpent entered the bay and attacked the port of Oakton, sinking several pirate ships and injecting yet more disarray and chaos into the lives of the settlement’s people. The creature, whom the locals dubbed Berotassa, the Bay’s Fang, would occupy the nearby waters for years and further imperil arriving ships.

Later that year, a band of Kaleen warriors finally arrived to establish rule in the struggling village. The warriors battled and slew many of the worst criminals in town, a time they called the Red Spring. When the dust had settled, a young and proud warrior named Chanu Karpa reclaimed Oakton as under Kalee rule and took its rule in her queen’s name.

Oakton the Trade Port

Stage 11: Law. Year 138. Ruler: Chanu Karpa (age 72). Population 900.

In Chanu Karpa’s second year of rule, a local resident discovered a cache of gold and treasure from the Age of Immortals outside the palisade walls, within the forested hills. This discovery would make the settlement rich and, more profoundly, ignite the imagination of people for hundreds of miles in all directions.

During the next 50 years, Oakton would reestablish its port, repel Berotassa back to the sea, strengthen its walls and defenses, greatly expand its footprint inland, and become a destination township for brave treasure hunters. Proper roads were finally established between Oakton and towns to the east and south. With the influx of people came a merchant class and guild structure, plus multiple fledgling universities. The population exploded with diverse people who lived in relative peace and prosperity under Karpa’s watchful eye. The Kaleen warrior proved to be a fair and clever politician, able to satisfy guild leaders, farmers, sailors, and merchants alike. Oakton, with its ancient tree, shimmering lake, and capable leader became a jewel of the Kalee throne far to the south.  

Stage 12: Law. Year 142. Ruler: none. Population: 950.

Chanu Karpa never had children, so when she died at age 75, Oakton collectively held its breath. Would the township collapse back into years of chaos, torn apart by its diverse factions? Three candidates stepped forward to vie for the role of castellan: a) Munder Bayford, one of the town’s wealthiest merchants who claimed to be from a founding family, b) Seki Keme, a retired Kalee naval officer and one of the heroes of the campaign that expelled Berotassa from the bay, and c) Frada Pagona, the beautiful and charismatic head of the Weavers and Dyers Guild. The three were asked to appear in Kalee’s capital to petition the queen, a perilous journey that would take a full year roundtrip.

This year would be known as The Headless Year, both because of the lack of castellan and the public executions of outlaws during such a sensitive and tense time. It is also the year in which many believe the Blackpaws, Oakton’s powerful thieves guild, was founded (several wealthy families were robbed, likely initiation rites of the guild).

Over a year after their departure, Munder Bayford and Seki Keme returned to Oakton, with the former as new castellan. Frada Pagona perished in the journey, killed by monsters.

Stage 13: Chaos. Year 147. Ruler: Munder Bayford (age 45). Population: 950.

Bayford’s first five years of rule were marred by the most direct attacks from creatures outside the wall in the town’s memory. For reasons unknown, monsters threw themselves at Oakton’s defenses, killing travelers and terrorizing its citizens. Several areas of the palisade wall were destroyed and rebuilt, and one beast even made it to the inner keep walls, destroying much of it. Eventually, the frenzy of the monsters ended, and the creatures moved back into the surrounding forest and hills with no one knowing what had triggered the attacks.

Stage 14: Law. Year 162. Ruler: Munder Bayford (age 60). Population: 1500.

In the next several years, with monsters no longer actively prowling its borders, Oakton’s population bloomed. Meanwhile, across the bay, the town of Saint Oro had been steadily becoming a second (and more prominent) port trading hub, and one of the religious mechas of Kalee. Its founder was a holy man who believed fervently that the gods had not abandoned the world and would return, and when they did, they would purge corrupt settlements like Oakton from existence. Understandably, relations between the two port towns over the decades had been chilly at best.

The wealthy Bayford, however, saw an opportunity to strengthen the area’s economies and military strength by uniting. He initiated lengthy relations with the leaders of Saint Oro and their merchant guilds, establishing a joint navy to patrol the coast and removing the taxed levies each settlement had inflicted upon the other. In recognition of his efforts, the body of water between the two townships was officially dubbed Munder’s Bay, its current name.

Bayford the Builder and Modern Oakton

Stage 15: Law. Year 207. Ruler: Annet Bayford (age 67). Population: 2500.

Two years later, Munder Bayford fell ill and died peacefully, surrounded by loved ones. The rule of Oakton was passed to his son Kaster, a well-respected member of the Apothecaries Guild. Kaster made it his life’s purpose to establish the largest and best medical temple in Kalee and poured the town’s funds and effort into his vision. The Eternal Shade, a towering apothecary and medical academy, became the town’s largest single structure, sitting lakeside under the Great Oak. Kaster died before the building could be completed, but his daughter Annet finished the work when she became castellan. Its completion sparked an architectural renaissance in Oakton, including several of the town’s current landmarks.

Over these decades, the merchant navy repelled two pirate invasions and Oakton’s militia established regular patrols along its outside roads. As a result, the town’s population continued to swell, and its economy prospered.

Stage 16: Law. Year 235. Ruler: Annet Bayford (age 95). Population: 3600.

In the town’s 225th year, Kalee’s Queen Suna visited Oaktown and Saint Oro, the first visit to the region of any of Kalee’s monarchs. The lead-up to the visit and its aftermath marked a six-month celebration unlike any seen in the town’s history, and establishing Queen’s Day as its most joyous holiday. Annet Bayford, a wizened but quick-witted figure, utterly charmed the queen, and gained generous funds used to complete several large construction projects.

“Bayford the Builder” is still considered the single most successful and beloved castellan in Oakton’s history, and a statue of her was erected outside the town hall following her death at age 95. Ever the planner, she passed her seat without incident to her grandson, Gilan Bayford.

Stage 17: Chaos. Year 250. Ruler: Arryn Bayford (age 45). Population 4100.

Dragon! Arriving from the north, the first dragon in Oakton’s history arrived three years after Annet’s death. Temethys, who the locals call the Red Devil, did not linger to wipe out Oakton and Saint Oro, but it did smash most of the merchant navy, burn Oakton’s docks and ships, and set a fire that raged for more than three weeks across the town. Gilan Bayford died in the fires, and his son Arryn became emergency castellan. The great wyrm settled atop a mountain to the east, now known as Devilspire, where it still sleeps today. Devil’s Day is a local holiday in which, in remembrance, residents stay indoors with loved ones, give thanks, and ignite no fires.

Saint Oro largely avoided damage from the dragon’s attack, and its religious orders proclaimed it a sign of the town’s righteous blessing, saying that Oakton was paying for its sins and greed. Saint Oro sent little aid to its sister town across the bay, which enraged Oakton residents. Any attempts to rebuild the merchant navy fell apart, and though the towns did not reinstitute levies against one another, the relationship between the two grew contentious.

Stage 18: Chaos. Year: 295. Ruler: Sendo Avina (age 51). Population: 5000.

After more than one hundred and twenty years with a Bayford as castellan, an envoy from Kalee arrived in the town’s 270th year. It seemed that Queen Mati had offered the distant-but-promising town to the cousin of a favorite noble in court. Young Estet Mukka was just 19 years old when she arrived, surrounded by Kalee warriors, with her royal writ. Understandably, the Bayford family and guild leaders were thrown into disarray.

Estet proved to be a decisive by naïve leader. During her ten years as castellan, she further alienated Oakton from Saint Oro, reestablished many of Kalee’s traditions and holidays (stamping out several local ones), and created jockeying for her favor with guild leaders that would rival any royal court. All the while, she turned a blind eye to the seedier elements of the town, allowing criminal gangs to flourish.

Then, as suddenly as she’d arrived, Estet abruptly returned to Kalee’s capital to be married, leaving the head of the Shipwright’s Guild to lead the town, a boisterous man named of Sendo Avina who Estet favored because of his quick wit and fondness of history (it is widely believed the two were lovers).

Sendo was indeed infatuated with the Age of Immortals, a time when gods roamed the world and magic was everywhere. He saw the possibility of making Oakton the epicenter of museums and artifacts of this ancient age and founded the Adventurers Guild. He promised rich rewards for historical treasures, drawing mercenaries and charlatans from far and wide. As it had 150 years before, treasure hunters abounded in Oakton and scoured its countryside.

These treasure hunters would, of course, unleash The Wyrding, beginning the Age of Wonders.

And there you have it! As you can see, Pendulum just takes you on and on. I didn’t even get to the midpoint of the prompts, and carried all the way to the end would likely see Oakton as a bustling metropolis. I’m happy with where I’ve left Oakton’s size—a medium-sized, established town—and history, though. I already have a far better feel for the place than what I could have come with on my own. Thanks again, Jon!

Next step: Let’s go find out protagonists… We’re close, now.

Age of Wonders: Character #1

Age of Wonders: Setting & Variant Rules

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying15 Comments

Happy New Year! I love that my first official post on my new project goes live on the first day of 2025.

New project, you say?

Today was supposed to be my umpteenth deep-dive exploration of superhero games, in search of a system that I wanted to run as my next solo game. Then I discovered Crusaders, a book that had been sitting on my shelf unread for months. I’m too distracted by my excitement, so I’ve abandoned my pile of games to be explored. It’s my blog, right? My muse cannot be tamed.

Deep breath. Let’s get started.

My Setting: The Age of Wonders

I’m a big believer that worldbuilding is a trap meant to paralyze GMs from starting homebrewed campaigns. I have a vague sense of what I want to do in this next solo game, based on an idea for a novel I had years ago. But I’m going to discover the world as I play rather than go deep into its history, deities, warring factions, and bestiary.

Here are the elements that are grounding me:

This is a traditional fantasy setting, with faux-medieval technology and cultures loosely inspired by fables and Appendix N-like literature. Taverns and inns have fun names, beware the dark woods, and all that.

At the launch of the game, humans are the only ancestry, living in fortified settlements scattered across the land under a distant monarch’s banner. I don’t yet know who the monarch is or much about the nation, but it’s a relative time of peace.

That said, I envision a town or city where the people are diverse, and many cultures coexist. Too much fantasy, in my opinion, is dominated by the analogue of medieval Anglo-Saxons or Vikings. They’ll likely exist here (because knights and horned helms are cool) alongside African and Latin America-inspired cultures, in a continent that is somewhat a crossroads of the world.

Monsters roam the wilderness, making travel between settlements dangerous and a need for fortified defenses. I need to flesh out what these monsters are, but they’re generally mythical beasts more than nonhuman ancestries. In other words, there aren’t Societies of Scary Things, just hungry predators who want to eat you.

The gods disappeared long ago and took magic with them. Humans are just humans, doing what they can to survive in a harsh world full of creatures mightier than them. Oh sure, people claim that they can cast spells and speak with the divine, because there are all sorts of stories of ages past where these things did exist. But, as far as anyone knows, magic died when the gods abandoned the world long, long ago. As a result, the people in this setting are generally more humanist than religious.

But ho, our heroes are manifesting superpowers! I haven’t decided if the beginning of the story will be the unleashing of wild magic into the world or if we’ll start sometime shortly afterwards. Either way, an event known as The Wyrding will grant some people amazing powers, animate long-forgotten constructs, give some animals sentience, and on and on. The Age of Wonders has begun. Is it random or is there a reason behind the changes? That’s part of the story.

Tone-wise, I’m aiming for something akin to the Marvel Cinematic Universe (phases 1-3, let’s look away from the multiverse stuff) meets traditional fantasy, set in an untraditional cultural setting. This story is meant to be fun, snappy, and action-packed (which is a big part of why I wanted a supers game), character centric, and with emotions that span the spectrum but fall on the more hopeful side of things. In my mind’s eye, it’s a story that starts Grimbright and moves to Noblebright as the characters grow in power. We’re beginning in a decidedly Grimbright story, though… a fantasy town with random people struggling to survive despite the titanic threats surrounding them.

“Moment’s Peace” by Rebecca Guay

That’s it. The details on any of the above and all the texture I’ll discover first by making the starting town, then the main protagonists, then through playing the game. Unlike a novel, I don’t have a story arc in mind, either. I want to find the central antagonists and tensions alongside the characters. It’s an emergent tale, one uniquely possible thanks to TTRPGs and serial fiction.

Recrafting Crusaders Tables and Variant Rules

With these broad brushstrokes in mind, let’s circle back to my game of choice.

As I mentioned last time, I’ll need to do some work on Crusaders to both fit the setting above and combine its core rulebook random tables with the excellent Crusaders Companion. As I suspected, this work was both fun and rewarding, resulting in a set of tables and rules I’m excited to implement.

Origins

Literally the first page of the rules in Crusaders, the first of several random tables, is the Origin of your hero and how you came to be a PC. It is often the most central question to any superhero TTRPG and is the place where I most needed to think through how my setting and Crusaders interact. In some ways, as well, the Origin here substitutes for “character class” in D&D or Pathfinder, helping shape what abilities the character manifests as they grow in power.

Here is where I ended up:

There’s a lot to absorb on a table like this, especially without knowing the game system intimately and with my own homebrew-setting biases littered throughout. One way of understanding this table is that, when making a new character, I have a roughly 50% chance of making someone transformed directly by The Wyrding, 15% chance of someone who’s the companion of a transformed or awakened nonhuman entity, 15% chance of a “fantasy adventurer” who wasn’t transformed but is along for the ride anyway (think Sokka in Avatar: the Last Airbender), 10% chance of someone who is wielding a newly-magical item, and 10% chance to either choose one of these options or create something new/niche. I’ll use this table for both heroes, major NPCs, and important antagonists, since they’re all created using the same process. Speaking of which, expect any PC to also begin with the ICONS Origins Background generator, which I can use mostly unaltered.

Powers

Next up are the retooled Powers tables, which is less about my homebrewed setting and more about a) combining the core rulebook and Companion lists, while also b) curating the lists to the archetypes and powers I most enjoy playing. As you’ll recall from my brief “let’s roll up a PC” foray last post, each percentile roll on a table also gives you the “flip-flop” option (so a 25 is also a 52) across all four tables, giving you a lot of say over what sort of character you’re building. The one place where a fantasy setting crept in is on the Super Skills list, but even here I was surprisingly able to use most skills unaltered.

Here are the lists:

I won’t detail my many, many tweaks from the original lists to these. Suffice it to say, I used the same “what percentage would I want each to occur in the world?” rationale as when making the Origins list. I also added a few items cross-category, so, for example, Acrobat is both a Super Skill but now also a Physical Power, matching things like Super Strength and Vigor. I was tempted to break the Physical Powers list into two lists—either offensive/defensive or separating out travel powers—to make the lists roughly equal in options, but I wasn’t sure such an endeavor gained me anything in character creation. I also didn’t do a deep dive into the flip-flop options, making sure that any number combination on each table provided vibrantly different choices. I’m going to trust that there is both enough variety and randomness in these tables to stimulate my creativity.

Motivations

Motivations are oddly anticlimactic in Crusaders. They get a relatively substantial treatment: a full two-page spread in the character creation section (by comparison, the same length as Origins and twice the length of Character Growth), yet with no real mechanical impact on the game. Motivations are there to flesh out a character and provide roleplaying depth for players, and potential plot hooks for GMs.

I’d like to make Motivations matter more in my game, either by adding Victory Points (the Crusaders equivalent of xp) or Hero Points (the metacurrency that allows PCs to flip-flop die rolls) when characters are acting in direct accordance with their motivation or achieve some story milestone. Possibly both, though I’m leaning towards Hero Points. It’s something I’ll watch once I’m playing and getting a better feel for the system.

In the meantime, long ago I created a handy Motivations list for my various characters, both in TTRPGs and writing fiction. The inspiration for this list originally came from an excellent list in the first edition of the Aberrant rpg, and I slowly added to it over time. My thought is that any character, protagonist or antagonist, can have one of these motivations.

Note that the list is technically a table I can roll on to determine a character’s motivation randomly (good use for those Dungeon Crawl Classics d30s!), though I’m likely going to choose the main PCs’ goals.

Rank and Advancement

As I’ve been saying constantly, I want to create a game with clear jumps in power, taking the PCs from “street level heroes” to godhood. When I made my sample Crusaders character in the last post, I tried using 3 Power rolls instead of 5, and 15 Attribute points instead of 18. I’ve since revised my thinking here, with the following structure for starting values and progression:

Rank in Crusaders is more a symbol of fame and accomplishment than power, so in some ways this is the place where I’m most radically altering the game. Here, Rank 5 is equivalent to what a starting PC in the base Crusaders game would be (5 Powers rolls, 18 Attribute points), which is targeted as a comic book level superhero. To get there, a Rank 1 character is relatively weak, and a Rank 10 character is relatively overpowered. Thankfully, because Crusaders isn’t a game with a defined bestiary and cast of villains, I’m going to be creating all the NPCs and antagonists from scratch anyway, so it’s not like my Rank 1 characters are going to be any more vulnerable if I don’t want them to be.

What are titles, you may be asking? And what does “Godhood” mean? I’m not sure, honestly, except to say that I like the idea of there being a “fame” element to Ranks in addition to power, and I’ve always loved earned titles in fantasy games and literature.

Critical Hits and Critical Failures

Finally, I love that Hero Points in Crusaders are so straightforward and tied to Rank. You get 1 HP per Rank at the start of each Issue, and you can cash one in to flip-flop any d100 roll. Neat. Easy. Cool.

The more I’ve played around with the system, though, the more that double-digits (11, 22, 33, etc.) feel special. The game treats them as special for character creation rolls, in which you’re meant to flip-flop; on the tables above, doubles allow you to choose your own result or invent something new. So, it’s odd to me that the same doesn’t hold true during gameplay.

I’m going to play around with doubles meaning either critical hits (if the roll is under the chance of success for a given roll) or critical failure (if the roll is over). I like this system because it means that if you’re particularly good at something—say, with an 80% chance of success—you get more chances to critically succeed and fewer to critically fail. If you’re facing a particularly tough challenge, the opposite is true. That’s elegant and fits the Crusaders ethos.

The question is: What does a critical success or failure mean when you’ve rolled it? Here I’m going to feel my way and decide depending on the situation. Eventually, I might come up with a more coherent, hard-and-fast rule for how to handle these rolls. For now, I just want them to have juice, either helping or hurting the PCs in some meaningful way.

Let me reiterate that I’m super excited about Crusaders as a game to play. My many tweaks above are a testament to that excitement rather than a criticism. So many of the game books I read had me making puzzled, hesitant notes about rules interactions that I didn’t understand or that felt odd to me. In Crusaders, however, I felt like I immediately “got” the game, and so instead found myself saying, “Aha! That means I could…” All the energy I spent crafting the above tables and rules felt like good energy, generating more enthusiasm for me to jump in and play.

Speaking of which, enough of this table-setting nonsense for one New Year’s Day. Next time we’ll begin diving into the town in which our adventure will begin, and then crafting our player characters. Fun fun! As always, hit me up with any questions or comments below.

Joyfully yours,

-jms

Age of Wonders: Oakton

Choosing a Supers System, Part 6: Crusaders

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying10 Comments

Today I continue my game explorations for my next solo play and writing project. If I’m honest, I don’t think to this point that I’ve yet found “the one,” the game system that I immediately want to put into practice upon reading. I’m happy with my process—and diving into previously unexplored rulebooks has been a joy—but so far, my white whale has eluded me. Does a TTRPG soulmate exist for the genre mash-up in my mind’s eye? Will I discover it today?

Spoiler alert:

You know my requirements well by now, but I’m looking for:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

Today I plunge into a game that I didn’t even remember that I’d bought until I was digging around looking for a different game on my shelf. A flip through its modest, 100-page contents reminded me of what attracted me to it in the first place: namely, fun black-and-white art and a focus on the 1980’s superhero TTRPG experience. I’m guessing that it’s a game many supers enthusiasts don’t even know exists, but, well… it’s awesome.

Crusaders

Crusaders is a game developed by Olivier Legrand, released in 2022. There aren’t many reviews of the game I could find, partly because it’s a small-press game few know and partly because any web search results on “Crusaders rpg” get polluted by a d20 fantasy game by the same name, Castles and Crusades, Band of Crusaders, Crusaders Quest, and Crusaders: Thy Will Be Done. Woof. I think superhero games need to think more about brand recognition when launching.

Anyway, the intro on page 1 of the book says that the game takes place in the 1980s and is meant to emulate superhero games and comic books of that time, a time when I discovered TTRPGs in general and superhero games like Villains & Vigilantes, Marvel Superheroes,and Golden Heroes specifically. In an interview, Legrand talks about being inspired by Byrne & Claremont X-Men, Byrne’s Alpha Flight, Perez & Wolfman’s New Teen Titans, and Davis’ Captain Britain. He is clearly a kindred spirit, and Crusaders is a game that delights me from the first page through the entire book. Even the black-and-white artwork throughout manages to capture the spirit of the 1980s superhero scene. An example, from the opening page:

art by Rudolf Montemayor

Unlike those 80’s games, the rules in gameplay are massively simplified. Each character has four basic attributes, and, from that same interview: “The system is D100 based but keeps dice rolling to a minimum. Dice are only used for dramatic actions, like attacking, defending, lifting heavy things, attempting power stunts, etc. It’s a very compact, self-contained system, with very few subrules and special cases.” All rolls in the game are opposed percentile rolls, and all rolls are from the hero’s point of view—so if a PC is attacking, the player rolls the attack, but if something is attacking the PC, the player rolls the defense. Players also have Hero Points, a metacurrency that lets them “flip-flop” dice rolls (turning, for example, a 91 to a 19 result), and flip-flopping is a core part of the dice-rolling experience in Crusaders. Distances are abstracted and damage is a set value instead of rolled, both of which are meant to keep combat zippy and unencumbered, which is one of my (and my people’s) primary frustrations of old superhero games. As with most modern superhero games, villains have a “gang of thugs” representation to a single stat (called Fight), lieutenants have a bit more detail, and full villains have the same stats as PCs. Which is all to say that Crusaders is a straightforward system and easy to understand; the whole book is 102 pages, and only 21 of these are dedicated to the core game rules. I get the feeling that playing it would mean needing to puzzle out some situations, but I equally suspect that doing so wouldn’t be difficult.

Character creation in Crusaders is lovingly randomized, so let’s give it a shot…

First comes a percentile roll is for Origin, and I get Freak Accident: The hero got their powers because of a scientific experiment gone wrong or accidental exposure to radiation, chemicals, or—in the world I’m envisioning—wild magic.

Normally heroes get five Power rolls, but since I’m building a lower-level character, I’ll give myself three. I have the option to trade one or more of these rolls for additional Attribute points or perks like a privileged background or connections.

Here I’m going to depart from Crusaders and dip into the very fun Background Generator tables in the Origins supplement for ICONS, which will help me make the decision on spending Power rolls for background perks. After a whole series of rolls, I get a 38-year-old, male, who is friendly and outgoing, who values a mentor or teacher as well as his reputation. He believes that respect is earned, not given away. He was born middle class in a city and, as a child, his family was divided by conflict. He has a foe who’s a family member and a friend who’s a current or past lover. He’s suffered from a physical or mental illness, but he’s renowned for something he’s done.

As always, that’s juicy and gives me a lot to think about and build. It does not, however, suggest that I need to trade in any of his Power rolls. So back to the Crusaders book I go, and with each roll I can flip-flop the numbers (so a 70 can also be 07), and, thanks to the Freak Accident origin, can choose from either of those results across any of the four Powers tables.

Roll 1: Armor or Super Senses or Clairvoyance or Telekinesis or Energy Manipulation or Magnetic Control or Acrobat or Scientist.

Roll 2: Energy Blast or Super Speed or Psychic Blast or Telekinesis or Fire Mastery or Magnetic Control or Detective or Scientist.

Roll 3: Armor or Energy Immunity or Illusions or Psychic Blast or Energy Manipulation or Fire Mastery or Acrobat or Detective.

Holy cow that’s a lot of options, and demonstrates how the seeming randomness of Power rolls allows for a lot of flexibility to craft a PC I’d enjoy playing. In addition, there is a Crusaders Companion that has even more Origins and Powers to add to the mix. I almost want to write a bunch of pages dedicated to making a series of possible characters with these same rolls like I did in my Golden Heroes deep dive, but to save time and space I’ll go with Acrobat on Roll 1, Super Speed on Roll 2, and Acrobat again on Roll 3, giving me the Supreme Power version of it. My new guy is a super acrobatic speedster. I also get an extra “improvement” on one of my powers, which I’ll give to my Super Speed.

Next, it’s time to select my character’s attributes, which are Physique, Prowess, Alertness, and Psyche. Each character begins with a score of 9 (average) in each, and I get 18 points to distribute, which I’ll dial down to 15 since this is meant to be a lower-powered hero. Since this is a physical character, I’ll leave Psyche at 9, bump Prowess and Alertness each to 15 (well-trained and watchful, respectively), which leaves me with a Physique of 12 (fit). My Vitality (i.e. hit points) is 36 (Physique x3) and my Rank is 1 (more on this in a bit).

Sadly, Crusaders hasn’t made a form-fillable character sheet available, but here are the final stats:

Sam Merita

Origin: Freak accident

Motivation: Gallant (ego thrives on recognition and the admiration of others)

Rank: 1   Hero Points:  1

Physique: 12

Prowess: 15

Alertness: 15

Psyche: 9

Vitality: 36

Powers & Advantages:

1) Acrobat

  • Acrobatic dodges: In combat, can forfeit attack for +5 Alertness vs. all melee and missile attacks
  • Leap: 9m
  • Break fall: Reduce damage from any fall by 20
  • Dazzling attack: In melee, can attack two different opponents in one round
  • Swing into combat: At the start of a fight, can Charge with +5 damage

2) Super Speed

  • Outside of combat, can run 75 km/h.
  • In combat, +5 Alertness to initiative and defense
  • Each round, can use either 2x Movement actions or 2x Attacks or can combine Movement & Attack
  • Like a fish: Gains all benefits when swimming as well as on land

If I were making a character that I intended to play, I would write out a brief backstory, incorporating my rolls from Origins and tying it to the world. For now, you get the idea. Crusaders’ character creation process, I have no doubt, would generate fun and interesting characters with which to play in my world. I would probably play around with the number of powers and how many Attribute points a Rank 1 character receives in my world, but it wouldn’t take a lot of fiddling to get it just right for what I’m envisioning.

Why Crusaders Works For Me

Look, nostalgia is a powerful force. I don’t know what someone who didn’t fall in love with superhero TTRPGs in the 80s would think of Crusaders. My guess is that the twenty- and thirty-somethings of my regular gaming group would squint and wonder what the big deal was. “Seems pretty sparse on the rules,” they might say, or “Ew, random character generation,” or maybe even, “That art seems a little derpy.”

For me, though, Crusaders has a je ne sais quoi that I can neither explain nor feel the need to try. It’s just great. Good job, Olivier Legrand… you’ve managed to capture the spirit of character creation from my early teens while making a combat system that isn’t bogged down in math and simulationism. Everything about the look and feel of reading the rulebook makes me happy. More importantly: It makes me want to pick up dice, roll up characters, and jump into a game. I wish the game had more random tables, plus more examples of gameplay, more optional rules, any VTT support, a more vibrant online community, and a mess of supplements. I do. I wish these things. But as a barely two-year-old game by an individual game designer, it’s fine just the way it is. It’s got a spark that many bigger-press games don’t.

In addition, despite any warts I’ll outline in the next section, leveling up in Crusaders works just as I’d want it to for this project, and better than any game I’ve covered to date. Every character has a Rank, from 1-10, that symbolizes that character’s reputation and experience. Players begin each “episode” (i.e. game session) with a number of Hero Points equal to their character’s Rank. Those Hero Points get spent to flip-flop rolls during sessions. Each jump in Rank allows PCs to add improvements to powers or points to Attributes. And in a world where I limit myself to 3 Power rolls instead of the typical 5, I can also weave whole new powers onto the Rank track, perhaps something like one new power at Rank 3 and every other Rank thereafter. Which is all to say that Crusaders’ advancement system both works with my original concept and is easy to tweak and tune to my needs.

Indeed, I was so flabbergasted by how strongly Crusaders had pulled me into its nostalgic embrace, I ran back to my bookshelf and pulled out Mighty Protectors (also called V&V 3.0, the 2017 update of Villains & Vigilantes) and Squadron UK (the 2012 update of Golden Heroes) to read through them both. Recall that I’d rejected both games in my initial screen of what games might work for me. However, it occurred to me, maybe all I was searching for was a modern 80’s game, and these other games might improve upon what had so charmed me in Crusaders. Imagine my surprise when much of the licensed stock art from Crusaders that I love so much is also in Squadron UK!

art by Tony Perna

But you know what? I like Crusaders more than these other two, even though they’re the spiritual successors of some of my all-time favorite games, designed by true legends of my gaming childhood. Squadron UK has more crunch to it than I want, with more of an emphasis on outlining the many Skills (both common and technical) a character possesses, and with a significantly more complicated way of handling rolls, within combat and outside of it. Mighty Protectors, on the other hand, has all the random tables I adore, and I have a feeling that character creation might make me slightly happier than Crusaders because of it. Combat, on the other hand, is still a math-y mess, and relies on precise distances and too many calculations to fit what I want. That Jeff Dee art is still friggin’ sweet, though.

My Crusaders Hesitations

The most glaring misfit between Crusaders and my project is the setting. Crusaders is set in the 1980s, though the setting is neither more detailed than that nor hardwired into the game. Like any superhero game, there are rules for medieval weapons and armor, and the distinction between “gear” and “powers” is clear. Still, Crusaders would take some work to transform into a base fantasy setting. I would likely need to tweak Origins, Powers (especially Super Skills), and figure out how to deal with equipment in a way that fit the other mechanics without bogging down the game’s brisk pace or overpowering the PCs. Every monster and foe in a fantasy setting is one I’d have to create myself. The labor involved here isn’t zero.

In fact, the more I stare at the rulebook (so far, I’ve read it cover to cover twice), the more I see things that I’d alter. I’ve already talked about loving the Rank and progression system, but also wanting to fiddle with it to allow “street level” heroes to achieve cosmic power levels. I absolutely love the options in the Crusaders Companion (which literally has the same name as a 300+ page supplement for Castles & Crusades… oy), so would immediately remake the Origin and Powers tables to include them. Long ago, I created a Motivation list that I like better than the one in the book. I think there’s an opportunity to make hazards more dynamic and interesting. And on and on. By the time I was done, I would have likely homebrewed a significant portion of the original rules. None of this work, funnily enough, sounds awful. In fact, most of it is exciting. Again, though, there are barriers between the book as written and my ability to jump in and play.

Finally, like a lot of small-press games, there isn’t a vibrant community online generating discussion and materials to inspire me. The Crusaders Facebook group currently has only 79 members, including me, and Facebook is us oldfolk’s primary way of connecting (and there’s no Discord server I could find). No virtual tabletop support for the game exists. The one saving grace, as far as I can tell, is that Olivier Legrand himself is still passionately plugging away at creating supplements and is accessible. Maybe I don’t need a community if I can email the game’s creator with my hairbrained ideas? Hard to know.

Yes, I’m throwing out hesitations and then immediately rebutting them. I’m seeing the problems of Crusaders, but I’m like a kid who just got his first beat-up car… its flaws are endearing.

One Game to Rule Them All

I spent a full ten minutes staring at my screen, wondering if I’m done. I really, really like Crusaders and, though it doesn’t precisely fit what I want to do without significant tweaking, the process of making those tweaks doesn’t daunt me. It’s funny to compare my reaction to changing parts of Crusaders against systems like City of Mist, Scion, or even Prowlers & Paragons. I haven’t played any of them, but there is something I innately understand about the mechanics of Crusaders that feels familiar. Again, it’s speaking directly to my 1980’s teenage brain.

Back to my central question: Am I done? Has the search ended?

On one hand, what I need to remember is that Crusaders was a pleasant surprise. I had no idea that I would love it, much less consider jettisoning my process halfway through to jump in. Perhaps another system is lurking on my pile, ready to dazzle me even more and without all the adjustments needed.

On the other hand, this is the feeling I want to have with whatever game system I choose, a decisive YES! in my bosom. This entire deep exploration process was meant to find me a game system that made me want to jump into a homebrewed solo game. If I’m excited about Crusaders, why keep looking?

After much contemplation, I’ve decided that I look for games like I shop for clothes: When I find something that fits and I like, I’m done. There are no less than five more games on my “to be explored” pile, at least two of them, I think, would give Crusaders a run for its money. But the systems are all so different… I’ve flipped through them all, thinking about my next post, and suddenly a task that was bringing me energy is draining it away. I want to get started.

Let’s do it: Crusaders is my game of choice!

Age of Wonders: Setting & Variant Rules

Choosing a Supers System, Part 5: Cortex Prime

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying1 Comment

Game number four of my deep-dive exploration of superhero games that can be played in a fantasy setting. Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me, that this is how my brain works.

By now you’re aware that I’m envisioning a new solo-play venture, one that involves a genre mash-up and thus a particular set of requirements for choosing my next game. These by-now-familiar requirements are:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels, but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

After three narrative-light systems in a row, it’s time to turn to something different. Today is my first (and only, at least for this series) dive into a true “setting agnostic” game, not built for any one genre, but meant for games in any of them.

Cortex Prime

Truth be told, I didn’t know that Cortex Prime existed until recently. Instead, I knew Marvel Heroic Roleplaying, a 2012 game by Margaret Weiss Productions and by far my favorite (out of five!) TTRPGs made under the Marvel banner. Marvel Heroic Roleplaying received rave reviews and introduced several innovative mechanics well-suited to the superhero genre. Sadly, the company lost its Marvel license within a year of launching the game and thus disappeared as quickly as it appeared. My sense is that if Margaret Weiss had retained the license, MHR would be talked about today as much as FASERIP, and likely would have spawned Cortex Prime—a generic system using the same engine as MHR—sooner. Instead, designer Cam Banks took the guts of that original game to a 2017 Kickstarter, and Cortex Prime released three years later. It may have sat dimly in my awareness the past few years alongside systems like Genesys and Cypher, but I had mostly steered away from generic systems towards more specific and unique game experiences. At some point this year, I made the connection between Cortex Prime and Marvel Heroic Roleplaying, rubbed by eyes in disbelief, and promptly ordered the core rulebook.

The first thing to say about Cortex Prime is that it is beautifully produced. The cover, the interior art, the graphics used to explain game concepts, the layout… it’s all stunning. If the Supers! RED rulebook sits on one end of a sensory-stimulation spectrum, Cortex Prime is on the other.

It’s also a relatively unique rulebook in two ways: First, it reads like a “Game Design 101” textbook as much as a game instruction manual. Everything beyond the core mechanics in Cortex Prime is modular, and optional rules (called, in fact, “mods”) take up more room than the base rules, each painstakingly considered and guiding when you might use or not use that option. Because it’s a generic system, everything has a specific and technical term abstracted away from any one genre, and it’s a game that requires you to think beyond those technical terms to their application. Second, and relatedly, the book is targeted at Game Masters, not players. Because of its modular, design-the-game-to-your-world nature, Cam writes the book to bring GMs into the game design tent, letting them choose what sort of game they want to play. Cortex Prime is the single most earnest attempt I’ve seen to allow GMs to run the very specific game they want to play.

A number of great reviews of the system exist, and I’ll link to a few here by Mephit James, Gnome Stew, and Jeff’s Game Box. The best summary of the core mechanics are from a terrifically-written review by Cannibal Halfling, which I’ll quote here:

“Cortex is at its core a ‘roll and keep’ dice mechanic. For any challenge the player assembles a dice pool of around three dice, rolls them, and keeps the highest two results. Depending on which of your character’s traits are relevant to the roll, you could be rolling d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, or d12s, with d6 being average, larger dice being better, and d4 being much less good, especially considering the high probability of rolling a 1. All dice rolls are opposed rolls; the base dice pool that the GM rolls is two dice whose size vary depending on the difficulty of the task.

There are two other mechanics which depend on the die results. First is the Effect Die. Once a player chooses the two dice they wish to keep, they choose the largest remaining die to be an Effect Die. The Effect Die determines the impact of certain dice rolls, and is dependent on the size (rather than result) of the chosen die. This does mean that it might sometimes be advantageous to choose a lower absolute result (provided it still meets the threshold for success) if it produces a larger Effect Die. Second result-based mechanic is the Hitch. A Hitch occurs when a player rolls a 1 on one of their dice. A die showing a one cannot be chosen for results or for the Effect Die. While there are no direct consequences beyond that for rolling a one (only rolling all 1s is considered a critical failure and is called a Botch), the GM may choose to spend that 1 on the roll to create a Complication. Complications, and their positive counterparts Assets, represent circumstances or items that exist in a scene, much like Aspects in Fate. A GM can add the die value of a relevant Complication to the dice pool that opposes a character’s roll, while the player can do the opposite with a relevant Asset. When a character creates an Asset, they may use the Effect Die to determine its die size and therefore its impact on the scene. The other core mechanic of note is the Plot Point System. Each player starts play with a Plot Point, and when the GM activates a Complication from a player rolling a 1, they also give that player a Plot Point. Plot Points can be spent on activating abilities, counting more dice in rolls, and preventing a character from being Taken Out of a Conflict. As more options are defined, so too are more ways to earn and spend Plot Points.”

For the previous games, I made a sample character to test out the system. I can’t do that here, because to make a character in Cortex Prime means first making a dizzying number of choices about what mods exist in a particular world. Are we defining characters by Attributes, Skills, Roles, Powers, Relationships, Affiliations, Values, or something else? What do the superpowers do in this world? What factions exist that characters can join? Etcetera etcetera etcetera. Every character sheet in Cortex Prime is unique to that GM’s vision for the world. Take, for example, the same character sheet on the game’s website, for their sample Hammerheads (sci-fi) setting:

Everything on the sheet above—the three Attributes, the Training Packages, how Relationships work, what Distinctions matter—it’s all a setting-driven choice that the GM made before a player ever got involved. The possibilities are dizzying, and means that, once a GM has done the work of designing the world, everything in it bends towards the specific setting and stories in that setting.

Why Cortex Prme Works For Me

In a lot of ways, Cortex Prime is my wildest dream come true. It is a system designed for genre mashups, to allow GMs to feel unconstrained by any pre-existing setting. This is exactly what I’ve been searching for in this exploration. Reading through my criteria at the top of this post, it’s hard to see how any of the next game systems are ever going to address my criteria better than Cortex Prime. I get the strong sense that I could spend months worldbuilding and turning all the modular knobs to create exactly, EXACTLY what I want to do. Heck, once I’d done this work, I would have a game sourcebook in my hands that I could use far beyond my own solo play adventures. I would be tempted to consider writing adventures for my world and publishing them, surely reaching out to my regular game group to start a campaign. It’s kind of like a dream come true for homebrew worldbuilders.

What about jumps in character leveling, something that I’ve been using as a primary screen against other systems? You guessed it: There are mods for that too. Character advancement is its own section in the Cortex Prime rulebook, and I could make leveling up as milestone-driven or dramatic as I want.

Finally, once the world and game are built and all that knob-fiddling is done, the game has exactly the balance between crunch and narrative that I’ve been seeking. The mechanics are clear and easy to execute, and the decisions lead to exciting story moments. Even though the book often reads like a dense technical manual, it’s obvious that the density of mechanics is meant to allow the GM to make choices before players get involved, but that gameplay is meant to be fluid and fun. Look back to the game that launched the system in the first place, Marvel Heroic Roleplaying. In a lot of ways, MHR is an example of what Cortex Prime looks like once the GM choices are done.

The cherry on top: Because it’s a new game with such a wide scope and elegant presentation, the community around Cortex Prime is still vibrant. Unlike some other games I’m considering, I have no doubt that there would be plenty of people with which to bounce ideas or to lend inspiration. Moreover, I expect more and more setting books will be released over time, providing a whole ecosystem of Cortex Prime ideas to mine.

So, am I done? Did I find my perfect system? It sounds like it, right?

My Cortex Prime Hesitations

On average, I think each page of the ~250-page Cortex Prime rulebook took me more time to consume than any other game book I own. I had to reread sections multiple times to grok it and connect what I was learning with other sections, taking breaks between sections to allow my mind to breathe. It’s the only rpg book in memory that I’ve brought on an international business trip so that I could have the long plane rides to read it without distraction. To be clear: I’m not criticizing the book’s presentation or layout. For me, learning Cortex Prime is akin to learning a new language. Cam Banks has invited me to become a game designer and given me tools to do so. It’s as if I started the process of finding the perfect car for myself and stumbled upon a custom-kit dealership, where I can have any unique car I want if I’m willing to learn how to build it.

What I’ve come to realize, though, is that I’m not fundamentally a game designer. At best, I’m a competent GM who is comfortable homebrewing certain rules and tweaking settings to my taste. I’m a writer first, game player second. I don’t aspire to publish my own game system. Jumping back to my analogy, I’m a car enthusiast, not a mechanic—I want to buy a car and have someone give me the keys, complete with a maintenance plan if I run into trouble later. It’s clear to me that Cortex Prime offers the exact game experience I want for my project, as long as I’m willing to put in the significant work to assemble it from parts. Is that the work I want to do? I don’t think so. Everything about Cortex Prime feels tantalizingly full of possibilities but frustratingly far away.

I have two additional quibbles, but they are minor compared to the daunting, steep learning curve of building the system to my homebrewed world. First, as I’ve said throughout this series, Dungeon Crawl Classics titillated me with the story possibilities inherent in random tables. The more randomness I can insert into my process, the more that I surprise myself in my storytelling. Unless I want to build the tables myself, nothing about character creation in Cortex Prime is random. I’m sure that Cam Banks would encourage me to build those tables, but it’s just another step to a long process before I get to play and write. Woof.

Second, it sounds like there is some collective handwringing in the Cortex Prime community about how licensing works with the system (another article on this topic is here). In other words, once I’d put in the months of fiddling with the system to have it exactly represent my homebrewed, mashup setting, how public could I be with the choices I’d made? If I wanted to start releasing bits on this blog that became my own specific character sheets, powers lists, etc. – who owns those? It makes sense that there are legal questions there, because as I said, the Cortex Prime book feels uniquely like a game design toolbox more than a typical game rulebook. I don’t have specific goals or an endpoint in mind for this project (and honestly am not particularly ambitious about it), but I’d hate to regret choosing it as a system without fully educating myself on how licensing works. Add this step to the long lists of things I’d have to understand before beginning to play, which just all makes me want to sigh heavily.

One Game to Rule Them All

If it’s not obvious, I’m incredibly impressed by Cortex Prime as a system. It’s brilliant and unlike anything else I have on my TTRPG shelves. Kudos all around to Cam Banks and anyone else who created it.

It’s also a sobering game to explore. On the one hand, Cortex Prime delivers exactly what I want, as long as I’m willing to put in upfront work to create it. My resistance to doing that work is palpable, however, and makes me realize that I want a game that satisfies my requirements without needing to design the game myself. Back to my car analogy, I’d rather spend more time test-driving cars, finding the best one of the options available that I can drive right off the lot, than learning the skills necessary to build my own from a kit. There’s a reason that I spend time playing games and writing fiction and don’t spend that same time designing games. I hadn’t been forced to confront my missing game-designer gene until Cortex Prime.

As a result, I’ll keep it as an option, but distantly behind the others. If I truly can’t find something that works for me—or if I find myself with tons of free time and a willingness to crack my designer knuckles—it’s cool to know that Cortex Prime is there waiting for me.

Top Contender: ICONS

Second: Supers! RED

Third: Cortex Prime

Not currently in consideration:

Choosing a Supers System, Part 6

Choosing a Supers System, Part 4: ICONS

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying3 Comments

Another post, another quest for my soulmate game.

By now you’re aware that I’m envisioning a new solo-play venture, one that involves a genre mash-up and thus a particular set of requirements for choosing my next game. These requirements are:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels, but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

I have another “lighter weight” game system on my pile, so I figured it would make sense to tackle it next in direct comparison to Supers! RED andProwlers & Paragons. It’s also the most popular of the three systems: It’s time for ICONS!

ICONS

ICONS (yes, it seems to be always capitalized, though it’s not an acronym… yell it with me now) is the brainchild of Steve Kenson, longtime TTRPG veteran and original designer of Mutants & Masterminds, probably the most popular and played superhero game of all time. In listening to interviews with Steve, it sounds like he was trying, with ICONS, to create a more accessible game than M&M, something that gamers of all ages could jump into with minimal start-up costs. This goal is further emphasized by the presentation of the core book (the “Assembled Edition” is the 2014 revised book, and seems to be the definitive ruleset), which features Saturday Morning Cartoon-like artwork from Dan Houser and is pocket-sized. Everything about ICONS is non-threatening and kiddie, which I’ll admit for me at first was a turn-off.

The bones of the game are steeped in Fate Core, a rules-light, narrative-focused system. Every opposed test includes rolling a single d6, adding the value of the Attribute or Power you’re using (always on a scale of 1 to 10), and comparing the result to another single d6 plus the opposing ability. Dead easy. Results of these tests have a narrative range (seven possible outcomes, from “Massive Success” to “Massive Failure”). Each character also has descriptive, non-numerical Qualities (e.g. “I can do this all day” or “All-American hero” might be on Captain America’s sheet), and players or the GM can invoke (using Determination points, the game’s metacurrency) these Qualities either for or against the PC. Stamina is the “hit points” stat, a combination of a character’s Strength and Willpower. Range and time in combat are both abstracted. All these points are like the previous two games I’ve explored and seem characteristic of many narrative games. I’ve read some reviews annoyed that ICONS uses many of the same mechanics as Fate Core but changes the terms unnecessarily. Since I’ve not played any Fate proper games, I’m blissfully unaware of these issues.

Sitting on top of these relatively basic mechanics are a metric ton of wrinkles and optional rules that make ICONS deceptively deep. Characters can combine effort to overcome otherwise-impossible opposing numbers, or the GM can set up “pyramid tests,” which are multistep challenges that simulate things like stopping trains from colliding. Players can retcon the fiction and use their powers for creative stunts. The game’s lethality is a choice, as are things like sustaining injuries. The list goes on and on, and that’s just from the 2014 rulebook. Over the past ten years, a metric ton of splatbooks, supplements, and additions have piled up, much like my bae Dungeon Crawl Classics. Unlike DCC, Steve Kenson has managed to collect many supplements into a few “greatest hits” books. For me, the best are Great Power, which adds a bunch of new powers to the base game, Origins, which expands the character creation process and introduces Knacks and Specialties, and ICONS Presents!, a 2019 summary of all sorts of variant rules and additions to the game. Included in this last book is a whole section on playing ICONS in a fantasy setting!

Character creation in ICONS is meant to be random (though there’s an optional point-buy way of making characters, the reverse situation from the last two games I explored) and is supposed to go quickly. So… let’s try it out!

To simulate what I want to do in my game, I’m dipping into ICONS Presents! for the alternate “fantasy hero” tables. I’m also going to roll on the very fun Background tables in Origins to flesh out the character. And, to fully stretch all the supplements I own, I’ll also use the expanded Powers tables in Great Power.

My first table is Origin, and I roll a 1 on a d6: My character is Arcane, with an innate gift for magical power. I also receive an additional arcane Knack.

I next roll on Archetype, a get a 5 on a d6: Stealth, adding +2 to my Coordination and Awareness. Cool. It’s an arcane trickster or thief of some kind.

Now it’s time to roll up my Attributes on 2d6, consulting a slightly modified table for Fantasy. Here is what I roll:

Prowess (ability to fight): 3 (Average)

Coordination: 6+2 from my Origin: 8 (Amazing)

Strength: 6 (Great)

Intellect: 6 (Great)

Awareness: 5+2: 7 (Incredible)

Willpower: 2 (Poor)

I then get to swap two Attributes, and I’ll swap Strength and Willpower. Whoever this person is, they’ll be a slight, agile, headstrong person, but not particularly musclebound.

Next I would roll for powers, but the Fantasy rules say to pick a few Knacks instead. I’m actually going to do a bit of both, selecting 2 each of Knacks and Specialties (their “fantasy” profession and skills), then rolling for a single Power.

For our magician-thief, I’ll pick Vanish and Escape Artist as Knacks, plus Stealth and Occult as Specialties. My character was, I’ve decided (at least until rolling up the background information), an Indiana Jones-like relic hunter before acquiring otherworldly abilities.

What was that Power? I roll “Offensive” and then “Dazzle.” My character can overwhelm an opponent’s senses somehow. Cool, and mighty handy given a PC who wants to mostly get out of combat instead of fight.

Now I turn to rolling up my character’s Background. After a whole bunch of rolls, I come up with a female, pale-skinned, seventeen-year-old who is a fun-loving and playful person. She values a mentor/teacher and yearns for love. She believes that people need leadership and guidance. She grew up in a rural community and was well-treated, at least until her entire family was betrayed by a loved one and lost everything. She then found a mentor and a windfall. Excellent stuff, random tables! I’ve got her in my mind, and as such writing her origin and Qualities is simple.

Here’s where I ended up:

The character creation process took me quite a bit longer than, say, Prowlers & Paragons, but that’s partly because I was flipping through four separate books. I have no doubt that it would become a fast process with practice. More importantly, it was fun, and generated a character that I could immediately drop into the story I’m wanting to tell.

Why ICONS Works For Me

It’s clear that Steve Kenson has put a lot of love over the past dozen years into ICONS, and it’s built on a Fate Core system that’s tried and true. As a result, ICONS is an intuitive system that is not only easy to understand but easy to tweak. I made a judgment call on what to use between standard superhero random character generation and the fantasy alternate tables without feeling self-conscious about the decision, even though Meri was my first character. Because the game always comes down to a single d6 role plus a single value, there’s not a lot to bog down speed of play. I love that the timekeeping system out of combat is divided into chapters, issues, and series, which sounds perfect for serial fiction. Which is all to say that ICONS’ core mechanics are easy to digest, easy to use, and I can easily see it working in my homebrewed world. With the four books I already own, I’m ready to play.

Although I didn’t think of it as a requirement when I began this process, I’m finding that random character generation is foundational to me being interested in the character creation process. Recall that I’m coming off six full months of Dungeon Crawl Classics, which is likely the most random-table heavy game in any genre. So much of solo play is combating my paranoia about overly railroading the story, and the randomness of rolls is what generates my surprise and delight. I’m already more interested in the character I made above than either of the Evlyn Towers I made with point-buy systems.

The level of support for ICONS is also heartening. There are tons of books, from both Ad Infinitum Adventures (Steve’s company) and third parties. I found no less than a dozen form-fillable PDF character sheets online, for example. There are Wiki and Facebook pages and a Discord server. The community feels dormant, but there’s still a faint heartbeat there. And hey… there’s even VTT support! I haven’t used Fantasy Grounds VTT before and have heard that it’s an expensive endeavor, but it’s nice to know that it’s there if I need it.

My ICONS Hesitations

My two hesitations on ICONS are related. First, because everything in the game is based on a 10-point power scale and every roll is a single d6, the power spread in the game doesn’t feel huge. As a result, I’ve read some forum comments that it might be a better game for low- and mid-level play instead of cosmic-threat level. It’s not a game that has particular rules for “street level” or “superheroic” play, because I don’t think those distinctions really exist in ICONS.

…Which means that it’s difficult to envision what “leveling up” looks like, when what I’m seeking are clear jumps in power once the character hit story milestones. There’s a section in the rulebook that discusses how to give Minor, Moderate, and Major Achievements, and Major Achievements (increasing Determination, adding Powers, etc.) might be enough, especially if I ignore the other two. It’s an open question, though, and one I probably wouldn’t sort out until I was already deeply invested timewise into my campaign. It would be a shame to get six months into a solo campaign, only to realize that I’m going to have to switch systems to fully realize the higher levels of play I had intended when I began.

I also don’t love juggling so many books to play, which is the same complaint I had with DCC. But I can’t really ding other systems for not having enough supplemental material and then complain that ICONS has too much material that I want to use. Consider this a minor irritant, not a reason to play another system.

One Game to Rule Them All

Of the three lightweight systems I’ve explored these past few weeks, it’s clear to me that ICONS is the best fit for what I want to do. The question is: Does moving it into first position on my list mean that I absolutely won’t come back to Supers! RED? For now, no. Yes, ICONS has the better character creation system, and far better support and materials. Supers! RED is different enough mechanically, though, that I may end up deciding that I want its narrative flexibility (particularly how it handles multiple Resistances) and the clear ladder of power levels. Heck, I could even see using the random tables in ICONS to generate the concepts for Supers! RED. So for now, I’ll keep both on the list:

Top Contender: ICONS

Second: Supers! RED

Not currently in consideration:

Choosing a Supers System, Part 5

Choosing a Supers System, Part 3: Prowlers & Paragons

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying5 Comments

It’s my second of many superhero TTRPG deep dives (links at the end of each installment to the others)!

Why am I suddenly diving into so many games? I’m planning to continue my solo gaming experience, but this time using a homebrewed world, story, and characters. The setting I’m envisioning is a genre mash-up, basically superpowers layered onto traditional fantasy, with a sprinkling of technology. Could I have started with something simpler? Heck yes, and maybe I should have done so. But I’m enjoying the specific requirements for a project like this one, and using it as an excuse to pour over some games on my shelf that I’ve either never read or have wanted to take for a test spin. Choosing the system has become a time-consuming tangle, but it’s been fun so far.

Speaking of requirements, I’ve articulated them as:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels, but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

My previous exploration tackled Supers! RED, a game that I’d bought after reading its glowing reviews but that I’d never sat down to read cover to cover. The other game in this vein is Prowlers & Paragons, also bought when I was in a superhero TTRPG buying frenzy because of how many people said they love it. What’s different about P&P is how many folks declare loudly that it’s their favorite supers system. When I added it to my “to be explored” pile, it was in large part to give me an excuse to understand what everyone was raving about. Let’s jump in!

Prowlers & Paragons

Prowlers & Paragons was first released in 2013, with the “Ultimate Edition” launched via a 2019 Kickstarter. Before I sit down to read a rulebook for the first time, I often search through easy-to-find game reviews to orient my brain. What’s fascinating (and exciting) about P&P is how many old-school lovers of Champions swear by it, and it seems to be a haven for people who, for whatever reason, bounced off Mutants & Masterminds. Hey, I’m a lover of Champions! I bounced off M&M (at least gameplay… I still love making characters)!

Check out this comment, from Richard in the above DMs Guild forum: “I would recommend this game for players of games like Champions or Mutants & Masterminds who find the math oriented nature of combat to feel very clunky and not very comic book like. Likewise I feel that fans of other narrative games, such as Cortex Prime, could look at this and have a good alternative game to use if their players want more crunch in the character creation. Alternatively I could see this game being used to create a really good fantasy game as well. I have often used super hero rpgs to run Dungeons & Dragons games. I feel character creation is much more fun in such situations and combat tends to work better.”

Squeee!!

In terms of how the core mechanics work, I’m going to use another quotation, this time from a 2022 review from Timothy S. Brannan: “The game mechanic is very basic and very easy to use. Every trait, ability, power, or what have you has a score. Figure out what you want to do, find the right combination, add those numbers up, minus any negative modifiers, and then roll that number of d6s.  “2s” and “4s” are one success, “6s” are two successes.  Compare that to the Thresholds table and you will know by how much you succeed, or fail.”

In a lot of ways, then, Prowlers & Paragaons shares its base DNA with Supers! RED. Everything has a d6 value, and gameplay involves rolling pools of dice. The difference here is that you aren’t adding the dice values in a pool, but instead counting the number of successes. As a result, dice pools in P&P can get large, since the game doesn’t care about your ability to do much math. The book routinely uses pools of 12d6 or more. If you like fistfuls of dice, this is a great game for you.

Combat is the crunchiest part of P&P, with specific terms like “active and passive defense” and “subdual damage,” but everything is theater of the mind and based on the basic mechanics from the review quoted above. Range and movement are abstracted to provide narrative flexibility, and a GM can decide how much things like size and cover matter to combat (or not). There are multiple pages of combat maneuvers, including rules for grappling, stunts, ambushes, defending others, etc. My general sense in reading the rulebook is that the non-combat parts of P&P are about who the narrator is, with a lot of open space to describe what’s happening. Combat, on the other hand, becomes more scripted, with clear initiative order and Health tracking. I’m not sure how I feel about the balance here without playing it.

Also like Supers! RED, character creation in P&P is a point-buy system with an optional random generator if you need a launching pad for ideas. The main differences between the two are a) the overall pool of points is larger (for street-level heroes, I used 12 for Supers! RED and 75 for P&P), b) P&P has more Attributes and Talents, which is what soaks up a lot of those extra points, and c) Flaws serve a different purpose. In Supers! RED, the equivalent of Flaws give you extra points to spend. In Prowlers & Paragons, though, Flaws create roleplaying situations in which you can receive Resolve points, the metacurrency that allows players to add dice, reroll dice, or add narrative features to a scene.

Because there are so many parallels between the two, I thought it might be fun to try and recreate my character Evlyn from the last post to see how it might differ here:

Comparing the two Evlyns from Supers! RED and P&P, you can see that, even with a street level hero, there is more detail here. Indeed, I’ve heard new players sometimes feel intimidated by the sheer number of Attributes, Talents, and Powers, especially if they’ve entered expecting a “light mechanics” system. That said, most of that sheet is fluff (though I like the many ways to add flavor), and since everything is expressed in a simple Xd format, once you’ve stared at a few characters sheets it’s all easy to grasp. Making my first PC took a little more time than Supers! RED, but not much. Like any points-buy system, the biggest trick was the “add one point here, take away two there” fiddling at the end to make sure I used exactly 75 points. Overall, I felt that I had plenty of points and options to make the character from my mind’s eye.

Why Prowlers & Paragons Works For Me

I worry that Supers! RED is too light mechanically, and Prowlers & Paragons is a definite step up in complexity. Combats can get crunchy, and things like chases and hazards are handled in “goals,” or multiple steps to resolve the situation. Because the “who gets to narrate” question is a core focus of the game, it’s a little odd to think about it in solo play. Thankfully there’s a “traditional results” variant rule that creates a table reminiscent of Blades in the Dark, changing the narrate-and-respond structure of resolving actions into “failure,” “success,” or “failure/success with a twist” which the GM can dictate. I love those mechanics, and it’s something I often find myself weaving into other TTRPGs. Also, like Supers! RED, we have tiering of enemies into Villains (full stats), Foes (same stats, half health), and Minions (one xd6 value), which creates encounters where PCs can feel especially super. Which is all to say, Prowlers & Paragons seems to have a lot of things I want out of my next game.

The system also has easy, clear jumps in power level built into the system since everything is based on point-buy character creation. Check out this glorious table from the core rulebook:

Perfect! I can easily see, instead of allowing PCs to spend the incremental Hero Points they receive at the end of each successful adventure, forcing them to save up until reaching a certain threshold. This sort of sudden jump in ability is, mechanically, what I’m hoping to create, and P&P makes this part of the storytelling easy and straightforward.

Finally, I want to say it’s a minor thing, but the more superhero game books I read, the more it matters to me: The Prowlers & Paragons book is gorgeous. Some of the art makes me wish it was a full comic book, and the layout is clean and easy to follow. Bouncing around chapters to find information is easy. The writing is clever and often delivered with a wink. After half a year with Dungeon Crawls Classics’ absolute monster of a rulebook and its scattered supplements, it’s delightful to have such a well-assembled book.

My Prowlers & Paragons Hesitations

Despite the quotation earlier in this exploration, I think the base P&P game requires some work to make it fit cleanly into a fantasy setting. Several of the Talents–Professional, Science, Technology, and Vehicles–are aimed at a decidedly modern comic book experience, and missing are things like Lore and Magic/Arcana. Similarly, several of the descriptions for Motivations, Flaws, etc. lean heavily into modern comic book tropes. None of these problems are crippling to my ability to play it in a fantasy setting, but it’s not out-of-the-box ready. As I’ve said before, I’m leery of homebrewing a system before I’ve even had a chance to play it as intended, and though the core game here is simple to grasp, it’s unlike most other TTRPGs I’ve played.

The biggest stumbling block for a fantasy setting is Gear. For me, equipment in P&P is caught in a weird limbo between narrative and crunchy. Characters can basically have whatever mundane gear they want, but these items often have mechanical boosts or effects. At some point, equipment is good enough to justify becoming its own Power, but that point isn’t obvious to me. Armor and weapons have tags that have defined mechanical impacts as well, some of which mimic Perks or Flaws that would normally cost or give you Hero Points. When thinking about a fantasy world where the PCs have superpowers but others don’t, the whole thing feels like a mess to sort through. I wish there was a P&P supplement that fully explored alternate settings like sword-and-sorcery or cyberpunk, which would help me feel more confident in how to navigate the many issues I see ahead.

I have a few other minor gripes about the system that already make me want to fiddle with it. For example, why doesn’t a character’s Motivation, which is given more than a full page in the book, somehow provide ways to generate Resolve? Another example: when making Evlyn, the only distinction between Blink and Teleport seems to be about combat, and so buying both felt overly taxing on my points build. I read in some reviews that P&P is easy to “break” from a balance perspective, and I’m just beginning to sniff at the edges of this problem even from a single read through the book. There is a way that a highly crunchy system like GURPS Supers or a highly abstracted system like Supers! RED works better for me, which is a surprise to discover.

Finally, I’m bummed to see that Prowlers & Paragons neither has a vibrant, active community nor even a creator website where I can find discussions, alternate rules, sample builds, etc. for inspiration (though I do believe a small Discord server exists). There’s no VTT support that I can find. These absences aren’t an enormous barrier, but they are discouraging to my confidence for committing to it for more than a one-shot foray.

One Game to Rule Them All

When I began my exploration into Prowlers & Paragons and reading reviews, I was sure that it would rank ahead of Supers! RED. Much to my surprise, I can more easily see committing to Supers! RED, and, while writing this post, often found myself thinking “this would be easier to figure out in Supers! RED than here.” My worries about Supers! RED being too lightweight and thus not keeping my interest remain, but P&P simply didn’t pull me in, despite its flashy presentation. In fact, if Supers! RED had the same art and layout, I’m pretty sure that the decision would have been ridiculously easy to make.

To be clear: I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum; if P&P is your favorite supers system, that’s great. Feel free to argue with me in the comments. For me and for this particular project, however, I see too many ways it doesn’t quite match my hopes for it, despite the ridiculously-lovely rulebook.

As a result, our top contender hasn’t changed…

Top Contender: Supers! RED

Not currently in consideration:

Choosing a Supers System, Part 4

Choosing a Supers System, Part 2: Supers! RED

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying4 Comments

Last time, I outlined my dreams for my next project: Continuing the solo-play, serial writing I’ve done the past year with Dungeon Crawl Classics, but in a fantasy-superhero mash-up story of my own creation. Because DCC doesn’t do superheroes, I’ve opened the door to another TTRPG as the underlying system I’m playing. My general instinct has been that it’s easier to adapt a superhero game to a fantasy setting than taking a fantasy game and adding superpowers. I’m also open to more setting-agnostic games, especially ones that have both fantasy and superhero supplements.

The special requirements for the game I choose are:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels, but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

I’ve discussed the dozens of popular games that I’ve already discarded from consideration, including all the behemoths in the genre and some of my personal favorites. Today I begin my dive into the eight (yes, last time I said seven… but comments on the last post here, plus Facebook and Reddit discussion, convinced me to add one) games I’m still actively pondering. Truly, I still have no idea which one I’ll choose, but I’m hoping this series will untangle my brain. Each post is meant to be a full dive and exploration, to really pressure-test each system against my needs and wants.

Let’s kick things off! First off is one of the games on the pile I know the least…

Supers! RED

Probably the most annoying thing about Supers! RED is its name, which is just generic enough to make web searches difficult. It’s an abbreviation for Supers! Revised Edition, a 2014 revamp of a game originally published in 2010 by a different author. Any reviews and play-throughs I can find on the game use the “RED” nomenclature, though, so Supers! RED it is. Also, sometimes SUPERS! is all caps, but inconsistently, so shhh.

The original Supers! is a lightweight game system, using handfuls of d6s in a way that I think originated from the West End Games Star Wars system. I don’t own the original Supers! book, but here’s a nice interview with the RED authors describing why they decided to revise it and what improvements they made. Suffice it to say, they clarified rules, filled in gaps not covered (like how you break things or grappling rules), improved the presentation, and added examples and optional rules—so the game is essentially the same, but polished up and with more options. In other words, if you want to buy the game, get Supers! RED by Hazard Studios, not the original.

The core mechanic is that each attribute, skill, and power have an xd6 value, which you roll whenever you want to do something. In combat, opponents also roll abilities or powers to defend themselves, setting the DC to succeed. Each character has four resistances (Composure, Fortitude, Reaction, and Will), and PCs (not the GM) choose when taking damage which resistances to lower, so each character effectively has four distinct “hit point” pools. Indeed, one of the strengths of the system is that the PCs have a good amount of control over how to interpret what happens and why, while still grounding these decisions in dice rolls. For a tutorial on the basic system, check out this short video. Watching that video alone, it’s apparent that Supers! RED is easy to figure out, has a lot of narrative wiggle room, and adapts easily to multiple genres (there’s no functional difference between, for example, an arrow and a laser).

On top of that basic system are several tweaks that give the game some depth. There are combat maneuvers, Competency dice (the game’s meta-currency to give players an edge), power boosts and complications, PC advantages and disadvantages, plus optional rules for dice caps, pushing actions, wild dice, and alternate damage. Even without the options (the one I like best is adding a “wild die” to each dice pool that explodes, making actions have the potential for more dramatic effects, since the level of success matters when determining results of an action), there are interesting trade-offs in playing Supers! RED that hopefully keep the game fun to play despite its seeming simplicity.

One more thing I love (which is similar to my favorite supers game Sentinel Comics RPG): Enemies have different levels of complexity based on how important they are to the story. Major villains are built like PCs, with all the same Resistances and access to abilities. Major lieutenants are “henchmen,” and have an xD value, scaled to the threat they represent and what they use for all attacks and defense. “Mooks,” meanwhile, are groups of nameless enemies with a single xD value. Mechanically, henchmen and mooks are identical but get interpreted differently, one as an individual and one as a mob. This system allows PCs to feel like real superheroes, tackling piles of low-level enemies at a time and making bigger threats feel like final bosses.

To wrap my head more fully around the system, I made a starter character, keeping it a low-powered PC with a more classic fantasy base. Here she is:

I’m not going to go into all the ins and outs of what’s on the sheet, but a few quick notes: You can see that from all the white space that the system does not contain a lot of detail (although admittedly this is a low-level “pulp hero,” about as basic as it gets). It was easy for me to grasp the character creation process, what trade-off choices I was making, and how to build what was in my mind’s eye, even only reading through the book once. Start to finish, Evlyn took me about fifteen minutes to make.

Interestingly, there isn’t anything particularly “fantasy” about Evlyn when looking at the sheet, though I had a fantasy trope in mind when building her—namely, the bookish scholar pulled unwittingly into danger. What’s heartening is that, although she’s meant to be a scholarly and investigative character, Evlyn is still useful in combat. As far as I can tell, in fact, there’s no such thing as a “useless in combat” Supers! RED character because of the open-to-interpretation nature of the Aptitudes and Powers, and the flexibility to attack or defend with anything on your sheet that has a d6 value as long as you can explain it.

Why Supers! RED Works For Me

As the above section illustrates, Supers! RED is an incredibly flexible system, grounded in creatively explaining how the few words and dice-value on a character sheet interact. Falling off a building? I’ll use my Ice Powers as a defense, creating a frozen slide to keep me safe. Someone’s throwing knives at me and hits? The damage is to my Composure, because they didn’t physically hit me but now I’m freaking out. I’m attacking a group of 2D mooks, doing 1D damage? I land on one of them, then spin a kick, sending a second one into a third, cutting my number of foes in half before they can blink. All the rules in Supers! RED are ways of increasing or decreasing the number of d6 used, and the effect adds or subtracts from the available d6s next time. It’s elegant and open to whatever interpretation works in your game. As a result, it’s a system that can basically work in any genre, all with a 168-page rulebook and nothing else. For a genre mash-up game, that’s a boon. In fact, I took glee in a Reddit comment from a player that said they’d played a multi-year Supers! RED fantasy, sword-and-sorcery campaign without superheroes.

Speaking of campaigns, I love the game’s clear scaling of power levels. Pulp heroes are 10-15D total in value, all the way up to cosmic legends of 50D value. I can imagine starting my PCs at 12D characters like Evlyn, awarding them Competency Dice each milestone or adventure, and letting them spend those Dice to improve their Resistances/Aptitudes/Powers, purchase Boosts/Advantages/Powers, or reduce Complications once they’d hit 15D, and then every 5D after that. After only eight “level” jumps, the PCs would have moved from barely enhanced humans like Evlyn above to a true cosmic demigod. This is exactly the sort of power jump that I consider a core part of the game I run next.

Because of the sparse, easy-to-understand system, making NPCs on the fly or improvising situations appears absurdly easy. The deeper I went into the rulebook, the more I thought that I could convert any adventure in any game system into Supers! RED without hassle. For a GM, the game is silly-easy to prep and requires simply the ability to translate situations into appropriately sized d6 pools. Oh, there’s a wildfire? That’s a 3D hazard. Twenty lizard men come pouring out of a fissure in the earth? Let’s call those two 2D groups of mooks, oh and let’s say they have a leader who’s a bruising 3D henchman leader. The simplicity of Supers! RED keeps the focus on vivid description and away from rules lawyering.

My Supers! RED Hesitations

I have one big worry about Supers! RED and three smaller ones. My largest hesitation is probably obvious: The system may be too lightweight to be satisfying. Making Evlyn’s character sheet was easy. Staring at it, though, it’s difficult to find inspiration for creativity. She has four Aptitudes and one Power… those five values must literally explain every single action she makes, adventure after adventure, until she levels up and adds 1-2 more (and that assumes that I add Aptitudes or Powers instead of solely increasing the value of those she already has). Will I get bored describing enemy after enemy in similarly restrained ways? Is a 3D fire elemental going to feel different enough from a 3D gang of skeletons to be interesting? The strength of Supers! RED is its open-to-interpretation, narrative focus, but I’m looking for something that gives me a feeling of tension and exhilaration when I roll the dice. I’m worried that I may not be giving myself enough narrative tools to enhance my writing versus simply, you know… writing.

I’ll cover my other three gripes quickly because they’re all minor. First, Supers! RED has very little support as a game system. There are no player or GM forums, there’s no module on Foundry VTT or any other virtual tabletop, and few supplemental books exist by Hazard Studios or other third parties. That’s fine, but I often mine forums and supplements for inspiration, ask questions of fellow GMs, and use the VTT to immerse myself in the game experience. None of that is possible here.

Second, I’m surprised to find that the lack of randomness–both in character creation and game play–is an unwelcome shock after playing so much Dungeon Crawl Classics (which is famous for how laden it is with random tables). There’s a random character creation variant process at the back of the rulebook, but it doesn’t really work for me and honestly feels a little half-baked. Thinking about it, I would probably make random characters in a different system, then quickly translate them into Supers! RED. That’s a fine workaround, I suppose, but strikes me as pretty silly if I’m going through all of this trouble to pick my game system of choice.

Finally, as someone who almost became a comic book artist after college, I’m utterly uninspired by the artwork in Supers! RED. I feel terrible saying it out loud, because I know how difficult good artwork is. A real joy about PF2E, however, is the rampant Wayne Reynolds art. DCC is famous for its old-school approach, led by Doug Kovacs. Heck, Johan Egerkranz is almost the entire reason that I bought physical copies of Dragonbane and Vaesen. For me, the art in a game is best when it sets my mind on fire with possibilities, wanting to lose myself in the world. Any superhero game is trying to attract comic books fans, which is a visual medium defined by its artists, so I’m a little baffled when supers TTRPGs get this wrong. With Supers! RED, I’m distracted by how little I enjoy looking at the book. Add to “the art problem” the lower quality paper and print from my print-on-demand copy of the rulebook, and I find the sensory experience of the game frustratingly poor. I am looking past a lot of blech to see the possibilities in this game.

Are any of these last three reasons enough to ditch Supers! RED as my chosen game? Absolutely not. It’s the lightweight gameplay that’s the primary worry. But since I have seven more systems (unless I continue to find more… lord help me) to consider, I suppose that everything is a factor. Speaking of which…

One Game to Rule Them All

I have a feeling that, at the end of this assessment process, I will have a pile of games that weren’t exactly right for my current project but that I desperately want to take for a test spin. In future installments, I’ll take the time to rank each system here. The game at the top will be the one I choose to solo-play next, but a handy ranked list will help kickstart me next time, if there is a next time. For now, though, I’ve only done one full exploration, so this section is as sparse as it gets:

Top Contender: Supers! RED

Next time: The exploration continues! If you have thoughts about this system or others I should add to my pile, I’m all ears!

Choosing a Supers System, Part 3

Choosing a Supers System, Part 1: What I’m Not Playing

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying16 Comments

It has been great fun over the past six months playing Dungeon Crawl Classics solo, documenting my sessions as both a game log and fantasy fiction (if somehow this sentence is news to you, start the dozens of installments here!). I’ve learned a ton from this experience, not only about DCC and solo play, but how I might relaunch a similar series using a superhero TTRPG (which, as I’ve said, is my first love) in an entirely weird homebrewed setting, operating without the safety net of published material. That’s right: Today I officially switch gears.

I’m not done with DCC, not by a long shot. But I’ve had a story idea niggling in my head since before the pandemic, and the past year’s posts have provided clarity on how I might explore it. What I had originally conceived as a series of science-fantasy/superhero mash-up novellas works better, I think, as serial fiction, and solo play keeps the project energizing for me. So, at least for now, I’m planning to move my DCC love into GMing an online campaign for a group of players while simultaneously turning my solo-play/fiction energy towards my brain-worm of an idea.

I, uh… own a lot of games, superhero and otherwise. Indeed, collecting superhero TTRPGs has been a hobby of mine, and I’ve even tried to document every superhero game ever published (this list is neither current nor comprehensive… I get bursts of energy to update it a couple of times a year). For me, then, one of the most profound questions to answer is: What the heck game system do I use for my solo play?!

This decision is a weighty one. At any point in time, of course, I can switch game systems in the background without messing up the story (and might even want to do so from time to time). What I believe deeply, though, is that the underlying system fuels the narrative, and will either work with or against me when I’m writing. Besides, I’m choosing which game I’m going to dedicate months, if not years, of my life to playing. Do I pick something already familiar to me or something brand new? Do I go rules heavy or rules light? Do I reskin a game built with a strong setting or choose a system that’s inherently setting agnostic? Etc. etc. etc. These questions feel almost overwhelming. Scanning my bookshelves and PDF libraries, I’m paralyzed by choice.

As a result, I’m going to dedicate multiple posts to sorting out my thinking on this topic. Settle in, boys and girls, because the next several weeks are going to entail a lot of TTRPG navel-gazing. By the end of this first series, though, I’ll have selected a game system and be ready to dive into the setting and character creation.

First, a note about the story I want to tell: It’s a post-apocalyptic Earth that has become, with the fall of modern civilization, a feudal, fantasy-like setting where humans face off against monsters. No one remembers the world as it was. Suddenly a set of superpowered people—think comic book powers layered onto fantasy archetypes—emerge. What is the origin of these strange abilities? What do these powerful beings herald for the world? Can they save humanity? You get the idea.

My oddball requirements for this project are:

  • A superhero game that can be played in a fantasy setting, plus allow for anachronistic weapons and technology. Basically, the superpowers and fantasy elements need to be satisfying, but allow for other genre shenanigans.
  • Is neither too crunchy (if I’m consulting forums or rulebooks more often than writing, that’s bad) nor too lightweight (I need to feel like the dice are guiding the story and enhancing the narrative). I want to feel like the mechanics support the story.
  • Level-up jumps in power. My idea is that the PCs start as “street level” heroes and become demigods as the story progresses. Something will be pushing them closer to godhood, which is a core part of the story. The game should not only allow for those different levels but be fun to play at all of them.
  • No hard-wired comics tropes (like secret identities, costumes, etc.). The story will be a genre mash-up, so I can’t hew too closely to any overly specific formulas.

To help bring my unique story to life, today let’s talk about the systems that I am not considering, even though this list represents many of the most popular games in the superhero TTRPG genre, past and present. Heck, a lot of these games are true favorites of mine, and some represent literal years of memories. For one reason or another, however, each doesn’t sound quite right for this specific project.

The OGs

Villains & Vigilantes was my first superhero game, and something I played through middle school and high school. I was immediately enthralled by the art of Jeff Dee and Bill Willingham, which would become constant inspirations for my own drawing. My first time playing in a long campaign of any kind was a wild V&V series of adventures GMed by dear friend Ted. At one point in that campaign, our group of heroes entered an alternate dimension, and, upon exiting, each PC’s power set and appearance completely changed, permanently altering our heroic identities. It blew my mind how satisfying sticking with the same character over long story arcs could be, and how gonzo wild superhero tales can become.

Why not take V&V for a nostalgic spin, then? The revised edition of the original rules, which is what I played during those years, is a product of the early 1980’s and, truly, does not hold up well in terms of creating satisfying characters, simulating comics action, or telling deeply narrative stories. On the other hand, after a lengthy legal battle, Jeff Dee and Jack Herman finally released a more modern, updated game in 2017, called Mighty Protectors. This third-edition of the game, which I own but have never played, has an old-school vibe but seems to, based on many positive reviews, hold up well under today’s modern scrutiny. Which is all to say that I’m tempted. For this project, however, I worry about all three of my requirements above. It seems like work to make the system into a fantasy world, character creation is gradual and incremental, and some Disadvantages are hardwired into tropes. As a result, I’ll save Mighty Protectors for a future project.

A special, side-note shout-out to Longshot City, a delightful superhero hack of the very-weird Troika! system. Longshot City, to me, has an even better V&V vibe than Mighty Protectors, and is something I would immediately be comfortable playing solo. It also, however, suffers from all the same issues in terms of fit for this project. Making characters is a hoot, though. I recommend checking out this game.

The single superhero game I played for the most years of my life, the one that unseated V&V and became my obsession through college, graduate school, and beyond, was Champions. Indeed, the first long campaign I ever GMed was with Champions 4th edition, with the sweet George Perez cover. I also still own the 3rd, 5th, and 6th editions of the game, the latter of which is the current edition and has its own fantasy supplements. Champions introduced “point buy” systems for superhero character creation. The rulebook is an absolute tome, with a mathematical, balanced answer to creating any superpower or character concept possible, and it’s a system I know back to front. In addition, because it’s all based on points budget, my “level up requirement” is easy to handle in Champions; if I want a jump in power, I just need to, for example, add 50 points at story milestones.

It is equally tempting to dip back into the nostalgia lake of Champions. But, and I say this with great affection, the HERO System is work, man. Creating characters—heroes or NPCs—can take hours of tinkering, and combat can be equally persnickety. I’d like the system to be in the background for this project, not the primary time commitment. I’ve loved putting in the math-miles in the past, but not this time. For all of these same reasons, I am also not considering GURPS Supers, which is a point-buy generic system that I’m sure at least one person thinks I’m stupid for not using. GURPS is really, really, really flexible as a system, but if I wanted to use something generic here that’s based on balanced, simulationist math, it would be the HERO System, which I know far better.

One of the original superhero games that still has a surprisingly cult-like following is the original Marvel Superheroes, which pioneered the famous FASERIP system. I own the original yellow boxed set in 1984, and the advanced set released a year later. Marvel Superheroes has a terrifically narrative approach (especially for its time) and can be a lot of fun to play. The game never really captured my imagination for creating new heroes, though, and I find it’s better suited to a “I want to play Wolverine and fight Deadpool” sort of game experience than a homebrewed world with novel characters. It’s important to nod my cap at FASERIP, but it’s not my system of choice.

I’m more tempted by the most recent Marvel game, the Marvel Multiverse RPG. I like that it’s actively supported by Marvel and still pumping out sourcebooks. I also know that the Glass Cannon Podcast crew love it. The more I’ve read about Marvel Multiverse, though, the more detractors I find, suggesting it has some real balance issues, that some character concepts are currently impossible to realize, and that there is less of a focus on character advancement. Even more, the game and setting are deeply interwoven, so it seems difficult to use for a non-Marvel game, and, especially, a fantasy setting. I’ll also not be delving into the other Marvel (or DC, for that matter) games from over the years.

Another nostalgic favorite of mine that is oh-so-tempting is Golden Heroes. I’ve written a deep dive look at Golden Heroes, so I won’t rehash it here. Suffice it to say, I’ve spent a long time thumbing through my copy of Squadron UK (its more modern successor), wondering if this project might be the time to bust it out. Good sense tells me, though, that the fun of Golden Heroes has always been rolling up characters, not so much the gameplay.

The People’s Favorites

The game many, many people consider the granddaddy of superhero TTRPGs is Mutants & Masterminds. With over twenty years of updates, supplements, and support, the M&M community and resources are vast. At its core, Mutants & Masterminds is a d20 system recognizable to fans of Dungeons & Dragons, but it is a game uniquely its own, and specifically designed to tell superhero stories. For years and years, I had a Hero Lab account for the sole purpose of making M&M characters in my spare time, even when I never had a group with which to play them. Character creation here is also a point-buy system, and it has so many options that pretty much any idea is possible.

Although making characters (PCs or NPCs) in M&M is not quite as time-consuming and intense as in Champions, it’s still significant, tinkering work. It also has d20 baggage from D&D 3E that I don’t love, including the restrictive action economy that doesn’t, in my opinion, simulate the cinematic, superpowered battles that are the stuff of my daydreams. For all these reasons, I enjoy making characters in M&M more than playing it. The staying power and popularity are nothing to sneeze at, though. Mutants & Masterminds deserves its flowers and would be easy, because of its adjacency to D&D, to use in my homebrewed setting.

The only game I hear talked about more than M&M is Masks, a Powered by the Apocalypse game meant to simulate and capture the spirit of teen superhero drama. Gone are the fiddly, crunchy bits in all the games above in favor of pure, thematic, storytelling gusto. Masks was somewhat of a revelation for many people, able to tell stories that superhero games to that point had struggled to tell. Unfortunately, like most PbtA games, Masks fits a very specific niche in terms of genre and is thus mostly unable to tell stories other than teen superhero drama. Since I want my tale to be broader than that, I’m skipping this system.

A quick sidenote that Worlds in Peril attempts to broaden PbtA into more general superhero tales, but I haven’t been super interested in that game. The creators eventually adapted it into a game I really like, though. Speaking of which…

Close, But No Cigar

So, Worlds of Peril begat a really intriguing game in a different system, Galaxies in Peril. I absolutely love Blades in the Dark’s mechanics, but (and I know these are both controversial statements) the setting of Doskvol turns me off, and I have zero interest in playing scoundrels. As a result, I often keep an eye on Forged in the Dark games that have different settings or flavor. The idea of a supers FotD game was immediately appealing, and I’ve devoured the Galaxies in Peril book cover to cover twice. There is a procedural element to the mechanics that would make for excellent serial storytelling, and it’s fundamentally a system that focuses on the meatiest part of adventure tales, with a fun narrative way of interpreting die rolls. For a long time, when I envisioned playing games in my homebrewed setting, I assumed that I would use Galaxies in Peril.

Unfortunately, the more I’ve considered the reality of using this game, the more I realize that the city that replaced Doskvol in Galaxies in Peril is highly specific, and not at all conducive to classic fantasy. To make it work, I would essentially have to create my own city, with my own factions. I ultimately might end up doing exactly that, but having to do it all as prework is daunting. I’d still love to play Galaxies in a longform campaign, but like many games in today’s post, I get the sense that it’s most fun right out of the box, embracing the baked-in setting.

When people ask me for my favorite superhero game, my current answer is Sentinel Comics RPG. Sentinel Comics does so many cool things that other games don’t that it blew my mind when I first played it. Character creation is semi-random and yet creates wholly satisfying PCs. Combat, with its innovative, timed Green-Yellow-Red mechanic, is epic and fast-paced. The environment is an actual NPC in combat, with its own moves that change any scene cinematically. Game sessions are called “Issues,” and there are story milestones once you’ve created a “Trade Paperback” worth. So cool! Running it as a GM is a joy. Everything about Sentinel Comics is just so fun. And yes, the game takes place in its own “Sentinel Comics” universe, which is four-color, bright-and-shiny in theme. But there’s nothing about the setting that is hardwired into the mechanics, and it’s an easy system to reskin.

The fatal flaw of Sentinel Comics, at least for my purposes, is that it has basically no level-up advancement at all. This omission makes some sense, since comic book characters over time rarely get more powerful… they just change. Sentinel Comics assumes that the fun is seeing those changes in characters without obvious jumps in power, sort of like my high school game with Ted. It’s a system that very much mimics the experience of comic books at every turn.

I’ve thought long and hard about whether I could make Sentinel Comics RPG work for this project, and I just don’t think it’s fit for this particular purpose. Alas. If you haven’t heard of the game and love superhero stories, though, I can’t recommend buying it highly enough.

Another modern system that has sorely tempted me is City of Mist. The basic conceit of City of Mist is that each PC is an avatar of mythos that sits just beyond human perception. PCs can be embodiments of Thor, or Little Red Riding Hood, or the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, or whatever. Pretty much anything goes in City of Mist, both in terms of character concept and powers. Thanks to its Fate-like system, playing the game is less about measurable stats and more about thematic “tags,” qualitative descriptions attached to characters. If you can argue for why a tag works in a situation, you get a bonus to your 2d6 roll (and, like PbtA, every roll is a 2d6 roll and considered a “move”).

Thematically, there is a lot about the game that works well with my homebrewed concept. If I replace the modern city with a fantasy world, the same toggling between “Logos” and “Mythos” is not only possible, but something that I want to actively explore in my story. The lack of crunchy mechanics means that fighting with swords or eyebeams is irrelevant, and though City of Mist, like Sentinel Comics RPG, doesn’t have an “advancement” mechanic per se, changing the thematic tags does fundamentally shift characters in ways that can feel like growth. A lot fits here.

I’ve consumed a ton of City of Mist reviews, listened to interviews of the creator and actual-play podcasts, and read the books cover-to-cover. What I’ve come to understand is that a) the system is extremely narrative, open-ended, and feels unlike most other TTRPGs, and b) the quality of gameplay is highly dependent upon (as with many narrative games) the skill of the GM and trust of the players. What I cannot for the life of me figure out is whether City of Mist would be terrible for solo play. It seems like much of the richness of the game lies in the collaborative storytelling mojo between people, so my fear is that during solo play it would feel sort of, I don’t know… rule-less. Which is all to say that City of Mist intrigues the heck out of me, but I want to play it with a group before committing to it solo. Champions is too much crunch. City of Mist, I’m afraid, might be too little.

Speaking of too little crunch, I like that we have so many “rules light” superhero games like Tiny Supers and BASH, but I likely need more heft. I’ll be trying out some light-rules systems in upcoming installments, but these feel a bit too light.

A game that I originally placed into Part 2 of this exploration is Scion. On the surface, Scion has a ton of features that feel exactly like what I need for this project: Like City of Mist, it’s a game about humans becoming inhabited by myths. There are clear jumps in power levels that are both story-driven and tied to mechanics, and each power level has its own book associated with it: Origin, Hero, Demigod, and God. The Storypath System seems cool and a huge improvement on the first edition of the game, with the right balance of dice-rolling and narrative focus. From everything I’ve read, combat is fast-paced and fun.

I ultimately decided to shelve Scion for two reasons. First, like City of Mist, the idea of urban fantasy feels hardwired into the game. The specific gods in Scion are tweak-able, but the game expects that you’re playing off the major pantheons and mythos, whereas I’m planning to create my own divine forces. Would it be possible to replace their detailed explanation of cosmology with something homebrewed, and replace the modern aspects of the setting with traditional fantasy? Maybe, but I feel a little lost at the full scope of implications. Which leads me to my second reason for not using Scion: I don’t know if it’s the way Onyx Path writes its books, but I’ve read through Scion: Origin a handful of times, and I just don’t “get” it. I’ve read tons of TTRPG rulesets and supplements, and there is something oddly impenetrable to me about the way the game is showcased. It’s a beautiful book and I absolutely love the concept (American Gods is one of my all-time favorite novels), but my eyes glaze over every time. If I’m not grokking the rules the first several reads, tweaking it right out of the box feels nigh impossible. Like City of Mist, I need to play Scion with a group before going solo.

Finally, it’s worth briefly touching on other popular systems that I’m not considering for this project:

  • There isn’t another game like Spectaculars, and I would looooove to play with a regular in-person group. At its heart, Spectaculars is a journaling game that invites a group to spontaneously and organically create the world as you go. Innovative. Cool. I really hope they release digital journals at some point so I can drag my online group into trying it out someday. For this project, however, the assumptions the game makes about embracing superhero tropes doesn’t fit my goals.
  • I’ve written a deep dive into Aberrant, but wow does it seem like a lot of work to fit into a custom, fantasy setting. The world of Aberrant, and by extension the whole Trinity Continuum, feels fundamental to the game design. Could I force-fit something like Trinity: Aegis to make my concept work? Like Scion and City of Mist, with a system I don’t know well, it’s too much effort.
  • Savage Worlds Super Powers Companion takes the very cool SWADE system into the world of superheroes. I like Savage Worlds, in general, and find it fun to play. It can also easily toggle between fantasy and superpowers. From everything I know about it, though, and everything I’ve read, it is far better for “pulp” stories than epic ones involving demigods. I’m going to start small in my tale, but eventually want to get big.
  • I’m intrigued by Claim the Sky, the superpowers expansion for the Cypher System. However, in reading through reviews of the Cypher System, it seems to not so much have fans and detractors as a lot of… middling. It’s a solid generic system that some people think is slightly too fiddly and others think is slightly too narrative. It’s unclear how the vastly different role the system expects GMs to take versus players would work in a solo game. Basically, I don’t have any good reason to break the seal on these books and pilot them through such a complex project as this one.
  • Just for the sake of completeness, I don’t have any interest in dusting off my old copies of Superworld, Heroes Unlimited, or Silver Age Sentinels. I didn’t really love these games when they were new (okay, I had some fun with HU), so they’re not really in the running here.

Alright, alright, enough about the pile of games that I won’t consider for this project. Next time, let’s begin a much deeper look at the SEVEN (yes, really) games that I’m currently exploring as my game system of choice. I truly don’t know which one I’ll choose at the end, but fingers crossed that all this navel gazing will help clarify my muddled thoughts.

If you have thoughts about any of the games above—including any you think I’ve prematurely ejected—please comment below. You can also feel free to guess as to what systems I am considering, if you’re a superhero game afficionado.

Until then!

Choosing a Supers System, Part 2!

Reflections: Doom of the Savage Kings

On By MagicJMSIn Dungeon Crawl Classics, Tabletop RoleplayingLeave a comment

Whew! For a fifteen-page adventure, who knew that I would somehow manage to compile over sixty thousand words over seventeen posts? I’m thrilled to have finished my first DCC module, and hoo nelly do I have thoughts to share! Today is the same “look back, look forward” sort of post as after my Portal Under the Stars experience, a chance to towel off from the story, ponder what worked and didn’t, and consider where I go from here. Spoiler alert: new journeys await.

Reflections on Level 1 Play in Dungeon Crawls Classics

Throughout the past couple of months and largely because of the fun I’m having on this project, I’ve become bolder about describing Dungeon Crawl Classics as my current favorite game, surpassing Pathfinder 2nd edition. It has the right balance between crunchy rules and narrative focus for me, and the countless random tables add to the story in delightfully unpredictable ways. It’s the best game that I’ve found that conjures the wonder and excitement of me as a kid while simultaneously incorporating modern game innovations.

You can’t spell “funnel” without “fun,” and I understand why the Level 0 murderfest funnels are so popular. Level 1, however, is when the entire core rulebook and supplements of DCC opened wide. To me, funnels are simply an added step of character creation, and an epic and important one for the game experience Joseph Goodman and the Goodman Games crew envisioned. Without bonkers spell tables, monster crits, Halfling Luck bouncing around the party, the threat of deity disfavor, intelligent magic items, and Mighty Deeds, however, the game hasn’t really started. I can’t emphasize enough how sold I am on Dungeon Crawl Classics gameplay.

Based on every account I’ve read from Judges and players, I also know that I was incredibly lucky through Doom of the Savage Kings. No PC died (though I had multiple close calls). My Cleric Erin was not disfavored by her god Shul. Hilda the Wizard experienced neither corruption nor spell backfires. No PC was put in a position of needing to burn his or her Luck down to single digits to survive. If some, or all, of these mishaps had occurred, would I still be so positive? I think so. Indeed, as I’ve gotten older and played more games, I find myself relishing the failures as much or more than the successes. They’re a chance for character development and story. If it wasn’t obvious while reading the game logs, I was quite disheartened that the Hound of Hirot didn’t put up much of a fight in any of its three battles, because I wanted challenge and peril. Which is all to say that yes, I’m aware that my plucky party experienced unusual success relative to many DCC tales, but I was both prepared for and understood the implications if the dice had rolled a different way. I expect Dungeon Crawl Classics to be a random, swingy game, and that risk is a big part of the fun.

Something else I love about the game is the lack of longform campaign storytelling. Though I’m not a big consumer of Matthew Colville’s videos (and thus don’t know more generally how aligned he and I are on other topics), I love his video on adventure length. To me, the idea of hundreds of possible “next adventures” for a party, based on what’s happened to this point, is exactly how I want to run my games. I’m a big fan of Paizo’s Adventure Paths, and have GMed a group of players through all six books of Age of Ashes over three years. It was a hoot. More and more, though, I find that I’m happy to be a player in an AP, but I don’t think that I want to run one again. I’d like the story arcs to be more emergent, for the epic quest at the end of a campaign to be the result of the dozen decisions the party has made to that point. The fact that so few longform stories exist for DCC is, for me, an exciting feature of its overall approach, and hugely satisfying.

Quick sidenote: Since beginning this project, I’ve run a group of players through a funnel (we played Hole in the Sky, which embraces the weirdness possible in DCC). What I realized from that experience is that the “hey, we’re just going to build the world as we go” can throw players off, especially ones coming from D&D or Pathfinder, where the setting is so deeply detailed. If I Judge a longer campaign (which is, ultimately, my goal), I will start with a Session 0 aimed at fleshing out basic details of the world (I’ve been playing Ironsworn with my friend Rob, and there are great tools there I’d steal for this sort of foundation), and creating our gaggle of peasants. Session 1 and 2 would be the funnel experience and leveling up their surviving PCs, and then we’d start the campaign in earnest with Session 3. Grounding the players from the beginning in a few basics plus giving them time to think a bit about their peasants before the Funnel experience would, I expect, provide a great campaign launchpad. The group I Judged is eager to play a Level 1 adventure, though, so I may have added a few DCC converts to the community.

That said, it’s not a perfect game. I have two primary complaints about Dungeon Crawl Classics now that I’ve played it for dozens and dozens of hours up to Level 2, and these complaints are related. First, I don’t know what the Goodman Games folk had against fantasy religions when designing the game, but Clerics got short shrift in the original core rulebook. Wizards and Warriors are the splashy classes in DCC, and what I hear people promote when convincing others to try out the game. Clerics, for whatever reason, feel like they received a tenth of the attention and writing. Worshipping one deity over another has no mechanical difference for a PC, whereas different Patrons dramatically change gameplay. The different gods and goddesses are described in a single page, with no flavor at all. Moreover, the more I create my own campaign world in DCC, describing the difference between deities and the otherworldly entities who are patrons is nearly impossible. In a nutshell: The entire system underlying Clerics and divine power feels underbaked in the game, and decidedly un-DCC-like.

Thankfully, some of my frustration is addressed in the one (and only, as far as I can tell) DCC Annual. Here, a handful of major deities receive write-ups detailing their background and beliefs. Each has special traits provided to Clerics, an individual Disapproval table, and thoughts about Divine Favors specific to that deity. The Annual introduces the ideal of “Canticles,” spells specific to a particular god. Clerics of the Known Realm is a free (!) supplement that took these features and applied them to the remaining deities listed in the core rulebook, which is awesome. And, as you know from Erin’s level-up post, I also found terrific inspiration from the Knights in the North (also free!). Add these three sources together, and I have the tools I need to make Clerics as satisfying and interesting as Wizards. The requirement to do so, however, leads to my second complaint…

The DCC community is amazing and pretty much everyone agrees it’s one of the best things about playing Dungeon Crawls Classics. Enthusiastic evangelists of the game create adventures, new patrons and deities, spells, magic items, classes, optional rules, settings, and on and on. Zines containing all the above are ubiquitous, as are third-party websites and blogs like Knights in the North. Goodman Games promotes or sells these supplements on their website and promotes them in its weekly newsletter. It’s clear that Joseph Goodman has made a conscious decision to allow a thousand wildflowers to bloom, with no attempt whatsoever to cultivate the DCC garden. You can, as a Judge, find anything you need to enhance your game, answer your questions, or fill in the gaps of your campaign.

So what’s the complaint? Well, after more than a dozen years, there are a lot of wildflowers. As someone new to the game, it’s overwhelming. I dipped my toe into a third-party class for Briene and had to decide for myself between three different Ranger classes. I’ve found several websites listing all the materials available for DCC, but none of them are comprehensive or up to date, so even finding my options takes significant work. I would LOVE for Goodman Games to provide compilations of some of these resources to help me. I would throw money at them for a compiled, edited book of Patrons, or Classes, or Spells. For example, take the material from Angels, Daemons and Beings Between Volumes I & II, add in all Patron write-ups from individual adventures and Gongfarmer’s Almanacs—Provide the most definitive book of Patrons you can provide over the past decade, please! Give me more Tomes that I can flip through to find inspiration rather than dozens of small booklets, some of which overwrite or build on each other in ways that aren’t obvious to me.

Unfortunately, I’m shouting into the void on this one, because I believe the dizzying pile of options is exactly what DCC enthusiasts want, and they celebrate the haphazard, “small press” approach to providing them. I want a map. The fact that this help is never coming is disheartening, and honestly diminishes my enthusiasm to keep delving deeper and deeper into the third-party mountain of options, discovering for myself where the gems are hidden.

In summary: I love Dungeon Crawl Classics. Playing it is incredibly fun. The Cleric class from the core rulebook needs some love to make it as satisfying as other classes, and I find it tedious to discover the many, many supplements to enhance my game. All of that said, I am looking forward to more DCC in my future.

Reflections on the module Doom of the Savage Kings

Doom of the Savage Kings is a beloved module from DCC’s early days, and it deserves adoration. Harley Stroh, one of the game’s more prolific and accomplished creators, clearly decided to transform Beowulf into a sword and sorcery adventure, and perhaps those mythical, narrative roots are part of what make it so satisfying. Gone are some of the bonkers, gonzo features of many DCC adventures that take you into different timelines and alien worlds, battling divine entities with uncontrollable items of power. Instead, Doom is a grounded story about helping a village full of color and depth with its monster problem. It’s great, and an adventure that I would happily run again for a group of players.

As with all DCC adventures, Doom contains several unexplained lore bits that can either be woven with parts of your campaign or lead to future adventures. What happened to Ulfheonar long ago and who were the Savage Kings? What’s with the “wolf versus snake” themes? How did the Hound come to be? What were those skulls on stakes in the Sunken Fens? What’s up with Ymae’s transformation? Etc. etc. Connecting these bits to Portal Under the Stars was fun and surprisingly easy to do. Both Graymoor and Hirot have standing stones and monuments to ancient warlords, so there is some internal consistency to say that these elements are related in the world’s history. I decided that the area surrounding the party was once a place of powerful and warring feudal Savage Kings, each with an animal motif and each playing with powers beyond their understanding in an ever-escalating attempt to defeat their rivals. I haven’t puzzled out how Ymae fits into the narrative, but if the party is ever exposed to Faerie (or Elf Land, or the First World, or whatever), I’m confident that there will be an opportunity to hook into something meaningful. Which is all to say that I’m enjoying the emergent worldbuilding inherent in DCC and appreciate how Doom helped flesh out some of the early seeds from Portal in my mind.

The part of the adventure mechanically that I find myself returning to again and again is the collapsing room hazard within Ulfheonar’s tomb. I haven’t before or since seen a trap work by ticking actions off specific initiative values, pushing players lower in initiative (and thus more dire threats) if they fail rolls. It’s cinematic and tense, with high stakes, and something I will definitely be looking to recreate in future games. In many ways, it’s the first time I’ve seen a hazard capture the “environment as actor” mechanic from Sentinel Comics RPG that I love so much. Bravo, Haley Stroh!

My biggest complaint around the module is how ultimately nonthreatening the Hound of Hirot was for the party. The PCs rolled well in the first encounter and had prepared well for the last encounter, but all three times I never felt the threat of a “final boss.” I like that the Hound’s stats are weaker at the beginning and beefier in its lair for the climactic battle, but either I missed a key part of the creature entry or the swinginess of DCC combat worked in my favor multiple times. Whatever the reason, the Hound felt like a chump. Meanwhile, the random encounter of the swamp jackals almost wiped out my fully rested and capable party. Heck, the tomb ghouls had me more on the edge of my seat than the Hound, and the biggest threat in the module was Iraco and his ambush. I’m beginning to form a theory that, in a game without balanced math and more randomness, a high number of enemies is far deadlier than a single enemy. Whether I’m correct or not, if I run Doom of the Savage Kings again, I will change the Hound’s stats, adding something (damage resistance, a howl that frightens all enemies who fail a save, etc.) that creates a bigger “holy shit we’re in trouble” feeling.

For solo play, the most challenging part of running Doom was the investigative chapter of Hirot. It’s a part of the adventure that I can vividly envision playing with a group, seeing how the players bounce off the various factions and interdependencies. For solo play, however, I experienced a moment of realization that I could write dozens and dozens of pages over multiple chapters without ever rolling a die, and I had trouble puzzling through how an investigation should work when I’m the only one at the table. I muddled through that bit in ways that hopefully worked, but in the future I’ll probably steer away from adventures with too many political, social, or investigative themes (which is a shame, since I love playing and running these sorts of adventures in groups).

Speaking of solo play…

Reflections on Solo-Play/Fiction

Adding my Portal and Doom blog entries together, I’ve written about 85,000 words for this project. A generally accepted minimum length for a novel is 90k words, to put that number in perspective. What’s particularly startling is that I began this project on May 26, 2024, almost exactly five months ago. Assuming I could keep up this pace, that means I’m roughly writing two novels a year worth of content. That’s amazing, and possibly the most prolific I’ve been on any single project (when I wrote my novel Birthright many moons ago, the first draft took me seven months). My undeniable conclusion is that this project has been a writing success.

The combo of solo-play and fiction also works for me. My strong sense is that if I focused on solo play without the blog, it would feel like a lonely and self-indulgent pursuit. It’s a funny distinction, since I only have two people consistently liking these posts (huge, fist-pumping shouts of gratitude for Rocket Cat and Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha (i.e. Kent Wayne)! They’re both awesomesauce, and you should check out their blogs and Kent’s novels). Apparently, though, having even a small audience is enough to help me fight through fatigue or malaise each week. I have never, on any writing project, regretted the hours spent tapping my keyboard, but I have often found excuses to not sit in front of my laptop in the first place. Publishing my solo play as public fiction is a terrific catalyst for continuing to write.

If I have a criticism of my process so far, it’s that, for whatever reason, my characters in this project are flat. I can’t tell why, exactly, but some theories I’ve kicked around are: a) perhaps the “disposable PCs” nature of the funnel and overall deadliness of DCC has kept me from investing too much in each character, b) six PCs is too many to juggle–especially for a system that expects them to stay bunched as a group–and for me the ideal number is probably somewhere in the 3-4 range, c) the emergent worldbuilding is distracting me from focusing on character depth, or d) my characters have always been flat, and I’m just noticing it now. Since I’m finding the gameplay of DCC so rich, the flat characters are particularly perplexing, and it’s something I am committed to addressing in the future. Whatever the case, it’s something I’m grateful to have realized on my own (my wife Sarah is usually my first reader, but given my pace on this blog I’ve been flying solo).  

What’s Next?

After Portal, I focused on two writing streams simultaneously: Continuing the tale of my four surviving PCs and compiling my various blog posts into a coherent piece of fiction without the game-log portions. This time, I’m doing neither.

Whaaa-aa-aat?

While I would love to see what a fiction-only, polished version of Doom of the Savage Kings would be like, it’s simply too many pages and too complex a narrative to edit without major effort. The juice isn’t worth the squeeze for me; a Doom rewrite feels like an energy drain rather than something that brings me energy. Since this blog is a hobby, there’s no reason to spend time on something that feels overwhelming. I want to keep experimenting and building on this new formula without getting too bogged down in polishing. I do think that editing and rewriting is an important and often overlooked part of being a published author, but being a published author isn’t really my aim here. Heh… Those last four sentences basically all said the same thing.

Now that I’m more confident in solo play, there are a ton of other games staring at me from the bookshelf. At the same time, I’ve been interested in poking at my own adventures and setting, circling back to a few ideas that have plagued my thoughts over the past many years instead of relying on published supplements. Combining these two instincts, I’m going to change this solo-play-plus-fiction-blog experiment into a laboratory for other games and other ideas. I still want to continue down my Dungeon Crawls Classics rabbit hole, but with a group of players rather than solo.

There are two possible scenarios in my mind: In one scenario, I have a vibrant, longform campaign of DCC running, either online or in person. Because DCC is relatively easy to prep, I also have the creative energy to continue with my blog, where I’m testing out new games and adventure ideas, enriching both my TTRPG life and honing my writing skills. In this scenario, maybe I even find a new favorite game and start the flywheel all over again, launching another campaign with friends and exploring new games on my own.

In the second scenario, I return to this moment. Maybe I fail to get a group campaign off the ground, or I find that DCC is uniquely suited to my solo play blog, or maybe I just miss this story and these characters. In this scenario, I revive Umur, Erin, Haffoot, Hilda, Joane, and Briene, picking up where I left off and launching them straight into a Level 2 adventure. Heck, I could even see starting over with a new Funnel and a new cast of peasants, focusing my writing on characters who are (hopefully) deep and vibrant.

In either scenario: 1) I’m committed to continuing with Dungeon Crawl Classics, either with a group or back here, and 2) my creative energy is pulling me into different places right now. I’m slightly ambivalent about this choice, because I’ve been having a ton of fun and writing at a feverish pace. There’s a worry that I’ll somehow mess up my mojo, resulting in neither ongoing gaming nor writing.

But even as I type that worry, I smile and shake my head. Nah. I can always come back and would be happy to do so. As I wade into my fifties, it’s becoming easier to make decisions out of a place of joy and contentment than out of fear. Let’s try something new and see what happens!

If you have thoughts on anything I’ve written here, either DCC, this specific story, or where I go next, I’m all ears. For now, get hyped about pivoting into a new direction, starting next week and going until… well, until my fickle muse pulls me down a different path.

Here’s to more playing and writing!

-jms

Doom of the Savage Kings, Chapter 15

On By MagicJMSIn Dungeon Crawl Classics, Tabletop Roleplaying2 Comments

“Well, this is awkward, isn’t it?” Haffoot sighed and scuffed the toe of her boot into the patchy dirt. The sun had climbed above the tree line, within a dome of clear blue sky. It was a glorious late summer day, full of warmth and birdsong, that banished any sense of the coming chill of autumn.

Yet the gates of Hirot remained closed.

“Oy! Nothan!” Joane called up angrily. “What’s the hold up, then? The Hound’s dead and gone for good! Let us in! We’ve been standing here forever with our thumbs up our asses! Hello?”

There was a long, silent pause. A bird called out particularly loudly from nearby, answered by another. Otherwise, everything was quiet and still. Umur swore softly in his native tongue. Briene whispered to Erin, who stood with her arms crossed over her white-mailed chest, frowning. Hilda, as always, leaned on her staff, back from the others, her face shrouded beneath her hood.

Finally, a youthful voice answered from the palisades wall. “Opening the gate now, Joane!”

“That’s not Nothan,” Joane murmured to her companions. “That was Caspar. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I believe we’re about to find out,” Umur rumbled. A series of thunks and clacks echoed as multiple people unbarred the gates from inside. Slowly, very slowly, the heavy, wooden gates swung open.

The Jarl was there, wearing his wolf pelt. Chainmail glinted from beneath the cloak, and he bore an enormous, bearded axe in his meaty hands. Despite his age, with a bald pate and stringy, gray strands of hair hanging to his shoulders, the Jarl was an enormous man, tall and barrel-chested. His scarred face glowered like a thundercloud as he took in the companions outside the village walls.

He was far from alone. Nothan the Younger, the sharp-faced leader of the Night Watch, stood on one side, nervous and unhappy, his lips pressed together tightly and his eyes roaming anywhere but Joane and her companions. On the Jarl’s other side stooped the robed, oily weasel, Sylle Ru. Unlike Nothan, the thin seer’s eyes glittered with a malicious glee, a gaze that hungrily roamed over the party and lingered on Briene.

Behind the trio of men were all seven of the Jarl’s thegns, brutish women and men, each armored and bearing weapons of various sizes and shapes. Their names were well known to Joane and Briene: Ofenloch, Kreig, Clohn the Bald, Ori One-Eye, Utheryl, Haedrick, and Haelf Halfson. Each was a warrior of renown in Hirot, and the Jarl’s martial might. Only now did it occur to Joane that none had ever been selected for sacrifice to the Hound, nor had any of their wives, husbands, or children. The young woman scowled at the realization that perhaps the lottery had been a sham, or at least influenced in some way to protect the Jarl’s inner circle. Knowing she had almost lost her life at the standing stones made her cheeks burn with rage.

Stretching to either side of the thegns were the few remaining members of the town watch, each dressed in yellow and green livery, and each clutching a spear. Their eyes were wide and terrified, their faces glistening with sweat. Many had been pressed into service when watch members had been sacrificed to the Hound or died trying to fight it. They were too young, too old, or too infirmed for real battle, and yet they stood with the Jarl and his thegns, seemingly ready to charge.

Finally, congregated some distance behind the Jarl’s gang of ruffians, the majority of Hirot’s remaining residents formed a large mob. The several dozen villagers gasped, pointed, and murmured when they saw Joane, Briene, and their companions. Many wept and held young ones close, shielding them from what was to come yet keeping their own eyes fixed on the proceedings.

“I told you to leave,” the Jarl raised his voice for all to hear. “Why have you returned?”

Umur glanced at the others and stepped forward, still outside the open gates. “We’ve come to inform you that the Hound is dead and gone for good. We’ve seen to it.”

A murmur ran throughout the crowd of villagers. Several thegns bent heads together to whisper.

“We ask nothing in return,” the dwarf continued. “We simply wish to resupply and repair our arms and armor before heading on our way.”

The Jarl’s face darkened. “You expect us to believe it’s dead? That you killed it?”

“Blasphemy!” Father Beacom called out from the crowd far behind. “Only Justicia’s judgment will save us!”

Umur shrugged. “Believe what you will, but the Hound will bother you and your people no more.”

The thin, rat-faced seer, Sylle Ru, tugged at the Jarl’s arm. The large man bent and listened, nodding once before straightening.

“And the death of Broegan Cayhurst? What say you there?” the Jarl’s lip curled in a sneer.

“What!?” Joane’s cheeks flushed an even deeper red. “We weren’t even here when my father died, you twit!”

Erin placed a hand on the woman’s arm, holding her from stepping forward. “What are you suggesting, sir?” Her strong voice carried over the distance.

“He dropped dead,” the Jarl made sure the villagers behind could hear. “Witnesses said he fell over mid-sentence, untouched. I’ve got no other explanation but magic, and you have a magic user in your group.”

The crowd of villagers murmured, some agreeing loudly and others scoffing. The Jarl’s face was as flat as stone, but Sylle Ru grinned maliciously and rubbed his hands together.

“You can’t be serious,” Umur groaned.

“Hand over your mage for questioning, and we’ll lock the rest of you away while we handle the Hound ourselves. Your meddling has confused too many people, and too many have died since you’ve arrived. Or do you deny that you took several of our people into the woods nearly a week ago, and none returned?”

“These people bloody saved you all!” Joane cried, and Erin tightened her grip to keep her back. “You probably poisoned my pa just to blame it on us, you monster! It was Iraco that attacked us in the woods, and you know it! Monster and fool!” Tears blurred her eyes and began spilling down her cheeks.

“Watch your tongue, girl,” the Jarl growled, his face darkening. “Or you’ll lose it.”

“Jarl,” Umur stepped forward. Joane turned to sob into Erin’s embrace. “We’ve killed the Hound and done Hirot a service. I see you’re ready for violence, and I assure you people will die if you keep pressin’ your points here. As the lass says, most who’ve died with us were to your huntsmen. Iraco and his men have paid for that, buried near the Snake King’s tomb.” At mention of Ulfheonar, more villagers murmured and cried out, and thegns whispered. A few of them looked at the spear in Joane’s hand thoughtfully.

“Stop the bloodshed, Jarl,” Umur continued. “You know we’ve done nothing wrong. We’ll leave and you can rebuild in peace. We ask for nothing from you. This is madness, man.”

Warrior to warrior, can Umur’s speech avoid violence? Or is the Jarl’s pride too great to accept that these outsiders helped him? Let’s do a Personality roll for Umur. He has a 14 Personality, for a +1 modifier. I’m going to make this a DC 10 for him to at least get the Jarl to pause and consider a non-violent solution. If he hits 15+ something very good will happen. If he gets a 5 or less, something very bad will happen.

Umur rolls a [12+1] 13! The Jarl will pause and consider the implications of a battle here.

His advisor, on the other hand, wants these troublemakers out of the way. Sylle Ru is insecure and motivated by power. He is threatened by the adventurers and will try to encourage violence. I’ll set the DC as Umur’s roll: 13.

I’ll say Sylle has no modifier (he’s smart but slimy), so this is just a straight d20 roll: 3.

Well, this will be fun…

Silence filled the next several heartbeats. Joane pulled away from Erin’s comforting arms with a nod of thanks. Briene reached out to lay a hand on Joane’s shoulder, as the red-haired young woman wiped her nose with the back of her hand while staring at the Jarl with hate-filled eyes. The other companions held their breath, waiting for the Jarl’s response. His thegns shifted their feet, seeming to do the same. Fingers on both sides idly touched weapons. Even the crowd of villagers had quieted, sensing the importance of the moment.

The Jarl exhaled, grimacing. He took one of his giant hands off the wicked axe and rubbed his face. “Gods. There has been enough bloodshed, right enough.”

Sylle Ru tugged frantically at the Jarl’s cloak, whispering and making dramatic hand gestures. The Jarl grunted something and shook his head, brushing the seer’s hand away. The robed man persisted, now urgently and angrily.

The Jarl cut him off. “Silence,” he snapped, then straightened and glowered at the companions at the gate. “Go. Take your people and leave, dwarf.”

“Good enough,” Umur nodded, and turned to the others. “Let’s first check…”

“NO!” a thin, reedy voice cut through the space between the Jarl and the companions. It was Sylle Ru, spittle foaming at his mouth. The robed man took several steps forward. He thrust a thin, knobby finger at Umur. “They are villains! Liars and thieves! Thegns, kill them now!”

Everyone could see the dark red and black energy beginning to swirl around the seer’s outstretched finger as he began chanting in an otherworldly baritone voice.

Sylle Ru, in his fury at being ignored by the Jarl, is going to try and instigate a fight anyway. I’ll roll initiative to see if the seer gets to act before the party. Everyone is ready for violence, so no surprise rounds for either side.

He rolls right in the middle of the companions. It’s Joane who wins by a mile, and she too is wound up and itching for battle. Seeing the seer be aggressive, she will daringly and dramatically try to throw the wolf-spear.

Joane’s Agility gives her +1 on ranged attacks, but the wolf-spear is not meant to be a ranged weapon. As a result, I’ll cancel this bonus. Instead, Joane rolls a 2 on her Deed die, giving her a total of +3 to attack since the spear is already a +1. She rolls a [15+2+1] 18, and hits Sylle’s AC of 10 easily. Her damage is [3+2+1] 6, which is the seer’s hit point total. Sylle Ru dies before casting his spell.

How will the Jarl react to this sudden violence? I’ll roll a morale check, with a higher roll better for the party. Another 15 on the d20. What could have been an all-out, fierce battle ends before it begins. I was ready for this scene to play out in a number of different ways, but whew!

In that moment, with the Jarl, thegns, city watch, villagers, and companions stunned, only Joane moved. She took several loping steps, snarling as she moved. From between the palisades’ open gates she launched Ulfheonar’s wolf-spear through the air, her red-haired braid flailing. The legendary weapon soared through the open space.

Sylle Ru’s eyes widened and the magics crackling at his fingertip sparked and faltered. At the last second, he threw up his hands defensively. The broad head of wolf-spear struck the man’s chest with a meaty thunk! and he fell backwards. Thin hands weakly, spastically grasped for the spear’s hilt, then stilled. Sylle Ru was dead, his eyes open and frozen in fear, his mouth agape.

Joane stood panting, her face bunched in anger. Villagers cried out in horror. The thegns’ wide eyes looked from the Jarl to Joane and back again. At least half of them gripped weapons tightly, while others took a step involuntarily back.

All the while, the Jarl’s expression did not move. His thunderhead frown remained fixed as he strode forward to his seer’s corpse, tucking his great bearded axe into his belt. He looked down, sighed, then pulled the spear free. The Jarl examined the wolf-spear in his enormous hands, his eyes roaming over the ancient script and snaking patterns carved into its shaft.

The companions neither moved nor spoke. Everyone, it seemed waited to see what the leader of Hirot would do next.

His heavy gaze fell on Joane, still panting, cheeks flushed.

“It truly is Ulfheonar’s weapon? You found the Snake King’s crypt?” he said in a low, thoughtful voice only he and she could hear.

Joane swallowed hard, then nodded.

“And the Hound? It’s truly gone, then?” the Jarl raised his voice, and it was clear the Jarl addressed Umur now.

“Aye,” the dwarf said. “It’s all true.”

The man sighed and glanced down again at his seer. His words were heavy and tired. “Alright then. You have until sundown to resupply. Then leave Hirot behind.”

He dropped the wolf-spear in the dirt. Like a lumbering bear, the Jarl turned his back on the companions and faced his thegns. Joane and her companions did not hear what he said in low, commanding tones. The assemblage of warriors glanced back at the group, some with hatred on their face, some with respect, and at least one with a grin, and then, as a group, they strode through the town square, towards the crowd of villagers, the town watch members trailing behind. The mob parted before them, shouting questions, as the Jarl stopped to address his few remaining people. Though he did not realize it, the Jarl took a place next to the strongbox atop a wooden post, where he had stood every three days for weeks on end.

Sylle Ru’s thin, crumpled form lay in the dirt, untouched and untended, like a discarded doll.

Late that afternoon, Umur stood outside of the mad widow Ymae’s hut. His horned helmet was tucked under one arm, battered shield strapped to his back, and longsword at his belt. Yet he’d washed his hair and face, and he wore fresh cotton beneath his black, scaled armor. The dwarf ran his free hand through his beard, scowling furiously as he faced the door.

He grumbled, “Bloody madness. I’m leaving at sundown, never to return. What does an empty marriage do? Nothing is what it does. It’s madness.” Then he cursed in dwarven and turned to leave.

The hut’s door opened.

“Ah, you’re Hilda’s dwarf, then? Well, come here and let’s have a look at you.”

Umur turned.

In the doorway was a young human woman, pleasantly plump. Her blonde hair was tied back in an elaborate braid, wildflowers woven throughout, which hung over one shoulder. Her violet-colored dress was simple, with a belt woven with flowers, and she was barefoot. The woman’s face was cocked to one side, appraising him and grinning with deep dimples.

“I– I’m sorry, ma’am,” Umur stammered. “I was looking for Ymae. Is she home?”

The woman chuckled. “I am she and she is me. Why have you come to my hut wearing the ancient armor of a Savage King’s lieutenant, Master Dwarf?”

“I, uh…” he coughed, flustered. “I was told by Hilda that she made you a promise. For the net.”

“She did indeed. And here you are to fulfill it, eh?” The woman put a fist on one hip, which she thrust out. Umur had never found humans particularly attractive, but even without whiskers this woman was lovely.

He realized that she was waiting for him to answer with an arched eyebrow. He coughed again. “I suppose so. The… the net was most helpful against the Hound.”

“What are you here to do, Master Dwarf?” Ymae leaned forward ever-so-slightly, eagerly, on tiptoes. “Say the words.”

“Well, I… I’d heard that if the Hound was dead that you wanted a… a husband. So I’m here to marry you, I suppose.” He nodded, planting his feet firmly. “As promised.”

Ymae threw back her head and cackled with glee. She spun on the ball of one bare foot as she laughed, her dress swirling. Then the young woman was clapping her hands together, eyes glittering with delight and her white smile bright.

“Oh, well done! Well done!” she cried and leapt at Umur. The dwarf dropped his helmet into the dirt to catch her awkwardly, but Ymae managed to meld into his armored embrace with grace. She kissed him, still smiling, long and hard.

“That’s enough,” a voice hissed from the doorway. Umur blinked, confused, as Ymae pulled herself away from him and turned. He craned his neck to see past her.

Just inside the hut stood a figure of shadow and flame, its form shimmering and dancing like candlelight in a breeze. Umur’s eyes watered to look at it, this thing of darkness that was clearly not of this world.

“He’s done it!” Ymae clapped. “He needed a kiss of thanks, didn’t he? Oh, don’t be jealous, love.” She thrust out her hip again, planting a fist on it.

“What’s this now?” Umur stammered. “I don’ understand.”

Ymae sighed as she stepped back towards the doorway. Flickering hands of black flame reached out to caress her as she drew close.

“Hilda’s oath is fulfilled, Umur Pearlhammer,” the woman said, her voice full of light and joy despite intoning each word like a proclamation. As she spoke, she disappeared into shadow, both moving further into the hut and the strange figure’s embrace. “Go and find your home, though I weep for what you’ll discover. And here is your reward, though your current armor suits you. Perhaps the young Wolf Slayer can use it.”

Umur jumped as the hut door slammed shut. Just outside, folded neatly at the doorstep, was a pile of golden chainmail that glittered and gleamed in the late-afternoon sunlight like fire.

Reflections: Doom of the Savage Kings